Thumbelina (Wilting in the Corner)

Don't crush her fairy's wings
 Hold her gently in your hand
 Help her to feel tall again
 None of this was planned
 She's too small for the pen
 Can't write her story down
 Too small for the pen
 Can't bring her mind around
 She's wilting in the corner
 No one to help her stand
 Help her to feel tall again
 None of this was planned
 Her silver shell is cracking
 Naive beyond belief
 She's not as lithesome as she'd like
 Keeps glimpses of herself brief
 (Thumbelina, Thumbelina-ah)
 No junebugs can reach her here
 To sweep her into an unknown land
 And spirit her away to a lonely bloom
 No, none of this was planned
 She can question why she was born this small
 But of course there is no one to answer her call