Nobody can tell me if miracles are real or not.
I look at my little brother, face full of snot,
and I know miracles happen, big and small,
my little brother's proof, proof of them all.
Nobody can tell me if there's a Heaven or hell.
I think of my great-grandma and I can tell,
there is a Heaven, where an angel sings,
and there sits my grandma, cleaning her wings.
Nobody can tell me if love is real or all lies.
I know the truth when I look in my boyfriend's eyes.
Love is real, it's got to be,
why else would I melt every time he hugs me?