A rebel that was me wailed and cried deep inside;
When a docile me put all its heed aside.
Every time the docile put her arguments forward;
It took me the road chosen by cowards.
Every time I listened to its voice,something inside me died;
The rebel forcefully once again tried.
This time it burnt all the chains and verged to its dream;
Flying is the bird since, oh listen to its scream.
Clips and Pages 