Pink polka-dotted dress and curly hair,
Blue eyes, a great big smile, a small wheelchair.
She’s a little princess, just turned three.
She tells me she can fly, and I believe
There’s a light of heaven there in her eyes.
Are there angels who live here among us,
In a state of grace?
Little ones sent ‘round here to teach us
From a higher place.
Do they allow us to believe
They are helpless and in need?
Are they here just as it was meant to be?
Little angels without wings,
Little angels without wings.
A home run ball heads toward the right field stands
To a little boy who sits there smiling, glove in hand.
His Dad will help him catch the ball,
‘Cause he won’t see it come,
He can’t see at all.
But there’s a light of heaven there in his eyes.
Are there angels who live here among us,
In a state of grace?
Little ones sent ‘round here to teach us
From a higher place.
Do they allow us to believe
They are helpless and in need?
Are they here just as it was meant to be?
Little angels without wings,
Little angels without wings.
Are they here to teach us? Are they from the light?
Why does God allow a child born deaf or blind?
Is there something we don’t understand?
Is this part of some greater plan?
Are there angels who live here among us,
In a state of grace?
Little ones sent ‘round here to teach us
From a higher place.
Do they allow us to believe
They are helpless and in need?
Are they here just as it was meant to be?
Little angels without wings,
Little angels without wings.
I see them soar, I see them fly,
I see them lift us up on high!
I see them soar, I see them fly,
I see them lift us up on high!
