Listening as the gentle breeze of whispers drift past my deafened ears.
Dreaming  as the whistling wind burns my soul and reminds me of fears
where do we go from here, too many games, too many songs.
Too many plans gone astray, not enough rights and too many wrongs.
Mountains too high to climb, rivers that can’t be crossed.
Lakes of silken glass and oceans that long to be tossed.
Raindrops of glass clatter on my roof, with echo’s taunting
life’s not all that fearful just terribly sad and daunting.
So here I go again, flying without any wings, dancing in pain,
Slipping, sliding, falling on my past, staring up at hot rain.
Its over soon, the subtle end is looming bright, one night
while music screams, liquor pours, smoke curls ever bright
There I go watch me fly, no chute, no prayer, no hope
Just clouds above and crystal blue, watch me fall, watch me *****.
Ah, gather round, see the feathers on my soul, you know that when I die
I’d rather fall while flying, then wait and long to try.