Hark! O’you witty fop,
What you thought about me,
An emotional fool or an object to play?
You are wrong my dear,
No doubt, my heart is full of love,
Not an object to play.
You tried hard to put me down,
Yet failed in every attempt,
You know why?
It’s because of my iron-will,
Refrained me from to yield.
Sometimes seemed tougher too,
Yet Almighty made a way to help me out,
You know why?
Always leave my things up to Him,
Surely turns impossible a possible one.
Betcha! Let one more try to break me down,
Uffff surely enough, you’ll never.
Here I’m with iron-will,
Who knows how to live a hale and hearty life,
Despite all odds in a way.
Hark! My mighty cry with ear,
Yes, I’m a freak!
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