"(..) a perfect idea of freedom and flight, limited by nothing at all"
/Richard Bach

I used to spend days crying my eyes out on the pillow
Now I'm blowing bubbles in the park
I've become my own widow
The other side consumed itself by the dark
I'm a lark and I bark, and I bark, I bark, I bark, I bark, I bark, I bark
Not a brithmark, no scar, nor rotting tissue - it's a spark, a spark


Tomorrow I will take flight and fight
But today I'm blowing bubbles
Because no bubbles gleam rainbow in the night