You are a frequent flier,
On a plane made out of glass,
And if lightning is the truth,
You fly low to let it pass.
Advertised as "together",
Destination: to our dream,
Yet whilst I sleep so peacefully,
You know not all is as it seems,
Then when the truth does find you,
And shatters you apart,
Remember as you tumble high,
Your vessel also holds my heart.