Daughter of the King

They tell me I'm too young
Tell me I'm not beautiful
I'm not good enough
I'm not worth anything at all
They tell me I dream too much
I got my head in the clouds
Maybe I'm just hoping
For something better than what I see now
A world where every girl

The Maker of skies, the Maker of seas
The Maker of every beautiful thing
He made you, He made you too
The mountain high, the river wide
He tells the sun when to set and rise
And He made you, He made you too
You're a daughter of the King
So tell me, what does that make you?

So [put?] your shoulders back
Don't you know that you're beautiful
You don't got a [disadvantage?], no
Just walk around like you know
And if you see
Looking like [:?], oh God
Like your dreams got crushed
You better remind her