Her hair, the way is frames her face
Her stance, the way it commands attention
Her confidence, the way it tightens their loose lips
The flow of notes from her keyboard
The soft melody created by the hum of her voice
The swift strum of her guitar
Country music at "Fifteen"
Pop at "22"
Miss Americana has made the world her stage
Red lips, blonde hair, and a support system of seven billion
She plays the soundtrack to my mornings, noons, and nights
The inspiration that shakes me awake, my "White Horse" in the dark