The sounds I hear daily
are all so dull,
each of them failing
to achieve what I call beautiful.

Some try to turn their voice
into music, like rock or pop,
but the only time I rejoice
is when they stop.

But if I want true perfection,
I know where to go.
If I want a peek into heaven,
there is one girl I know.

Her voice is of angels,
too perfect for this earth.
She sings and all souls
are filled with pleasure and mirth.

Like all angels, she is unaware,
of the power her voice does hold,
and all males must beware,
her voice bewitches young and old.

And whenever this girl sings,
(it is too rare, it fills me with sadness)
I’m suddenly given wings
to fly high with so much happiness.