Who will I be,
Who will I become,
When will I fly away,
When will I go home.

The lake never looked so much darker.
I used to see the bottom but now all I see is black.
I climb to the edge of the dock knowing my fate as clear as day.
I dip my hand into the water and start to fade away.

Who will I be,
Who will I become,
When will I fly away,
When will I go home.

My body feels like a mere illusion,
Wavering back and forth between common ideas and useless ideals,
The black waves rock over me until I lose my breath,
I can feel something tugging on my leg,
Urging me to sink farther.

Who will I be,
Who will I become,
When will I fly away,
When will I go home.