I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star

To pray on, or wish on, or something like that

I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy

Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had

But then the dove of hope began its downward slope

And I believed for a moment that my chances

Were approaching to be grabbed

But as it came down near, so did a weary tear

-I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag