A gift she has upon her hands 

She shows it every day 

Every second the gift flows through 

Those fingers, when they play 

People stare in amazement 

Her talent really shows 

But she bows her head and blushes 

Confused by all the "woahs..." 

Her heart is full of pleasure 

But a part of it is humble 

She doesn't care much for praise 

Her answer to that is a mumble 

She works from dawn to dusk 

A "prodigy" they call her 

But she knows it isn't so 

She really does know better 

They laugh at her uncertainy 

Says she needs some confidence 

But they don't that the girl 

Has a lot more sense 

Every gift takes a lot of work 

Some, a lot more 

But the outcome is always great 

Talent is what the girl bore 

She laughs and blushes 

Put her hands on her knees

"It is not I that has the talent," she says 

"But the piano keys."