There’s something about a girl with a mic,On a stage,Where her rage,Echoes until it’s part of the room,Where her voice fills the room,And you have to listen,To the little girl indignant,Standing tall but so small must be ignorant,Only fifteen, what could she know about the real world,Only that her world is being stolen away.There’s something about a girl who isn’t smiling,Who is not quite quiet...