When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

She lives in a large building, built from the ground up with rust colored bricks, tiered towers jutting up from the corners, frosted windows evenly plastered through out each wall. On the grounds, there was a flower garden, every colour of rose you could imagine growing from the dirt. People in hospital gowns wandered over the green grass, headed nowhere in particular.

To me, it looked like a red-bricked castle, a castle built for a princess. It was a beautiful building, with the most beautiful thing sitting at the window on the left wing.

My princess, doesn't know she's a princess.

She sits all day in her red castle, nose buried in a book and all I want to do is save her from that tower, take her home, back to our fairy tale.

My princess, doesn't know she's a princess.

She also doesn't know I'm her prince.