The bottle in her mouth, a form’la I’m try-ing. Tried to feed it all at once, ‘til the bottle she ceased to cling.
What have I become, my little sis? An orphan with her mom, and her dad, both amiss…
And you can have it all, my e’ry ounce of love. Me and Big Mac tall; our friendship’s enough.
Granny wears these dusty hooves, upon this weathered mare. Many apples picked, that I can then prepare. Beneath the smells of pie, the kitchen live as is. Winona sits outside, her mouth begins to fizz.
What have I become, my little sis? My cutie mark has come, I will run, the fam’ly biz.
With Big Mac at my side, we will run the farm. I’ll help find your mark, and keep you ways from harm.
If I could start again, a millions miles away. I would keep my friends; I’d live for today.