She grew up in the porch on the house
Black feathers catching wind beneath the roof
Sometimes she steps on the magazines
Slipping over and on her food, it's the truth
It's Frida. She's enough to make you smile
It's Frida. She's enough to make you smile
She takes cover from the pouring rain
Morning song can wake the dead if they sleep
Scratching her way out of her cage
Corn cobs bring a smile with a peep
It's Frida. She's enough to make you smile
It's Frida. She's enough to make you smile
She dreams of flying high on days when all the clouds greet her.
She soars past them on giant gusts of winds so fast.

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