Pick-a me up           highest you can
                       to the                    
        
My soul is a              bird  
And you are the

Breeze              wings that learn to
             beneath

Fly again faster farther than ever before

Our world is a watercolor     dream
Where we can dance
and talk and
                        No one cares if we sleep
                        for a day or three

And gentle hands are all we
Need to feel alive and whole again

But “we” and “our” are silly words
Because You and I are not             un  bro  ken

You left her your meant-to-be’s
Just like I left him my empty-promises

                                fly
And it’s hard to                   to  ge  ther  
When we’re both still afraid
                                          to crash and burn
                                                            ­          again