Pointe Shoes

The shoes, they do a lot for me.

They touch the ground, so I touch the sky

They get all worn, and a little bit torn

They have a block, and I never wear socks

The pink starts to wear; the ribbons look bare
They feel the weight, so I feel the air

Day after day they sit and they wait, in a dusty old bag, but just like bait, they draw me in so at night I can dance, and they help me to take a brand new chance.

I know deep down we could never part, because I love them with all of my heart.

They give me blisters, yet I treat them like sisters.

Just the music, the pointe shoes and me.