Freedom Bird
He holds me and I feel like soaring high,
Chirping my little tune,
Stretching our black and white wings.
He holds me and I feel like soaring high,
Chirping my little tune,
Stretching our black and white wings.
The way he loves me,
I fall and he sees me fly;
he holds me and I feel like soaring high.
I fall and he sees me fly;
he holds me and I feel like soaring high.
Finding no reason to cry,
within his steady hold,
chirping my little tune.
within his steady hold,
chirping my little tune.
The ground singes our feet,
but all I feel is his hold while
stretching our black and white wings.
but all I feel is his hold while
stretching our black and white wings.
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