If it is true what they say,
that love looks not with the eyes,
but with the mind,
Then why should it matter
who his parents are,
how much money he has,
or where he came from?

Why should it matter that he grew up on an old farm
and I was raised in this
house on a hill?

Why should it matter
that he had to work for every
penny he has
And I've had everything handed to me on a silver platter?

Standing here on my balcony,
above him,
above the world,
why should it matter?

And so I decided that it shouldn't,
it really shouldn't matter

Your past shouldn't be able
to shape your present,
your future

And so I stand here on my balcony
and I know this won't touch us anymore,
We won't have to lie anymore

I hear rocks against the rail,
and I make up my mind to let go

To let go of the balcony,
of my world,
of everything that "matters"

Because it doesn't matter,
family doesn't matter,
money doesn't matter,
nothing matters

Nothing at all matters,
not when I let go
of my balcony,
Not when I'm in his arms