There is an infinite number of reasons
To take my leave of your world
For an instance, our numbered days
The way you sip your liquor before dawn
Or the upbringing that has messed me up

With every passing day
I find new reasons to fly away
Perhaps into the arms of another
Or to a mystical land of the unknown

My time is running out, is it not?
I have been desperately delaying my own departure
In the faint hope that I may not need to go
Maybe suddenly I will be something to you

You said your goodbye to the thunderstorm
Perhaps when summer leaves
I will find my way to leave, too
One of us has to, anyway