As a child I wondered what it'd be like to be an angel Soaring through the heavens on white feathers, playing golden harps in tune with the whistling of the wind.
And so I stepped onto flightless wings and let their hands guide me to the skies. I looked up, Up to where the the clouds floated Where the winds lifted my hair with mischief and whispered songs of freedom Where the ground was but a memory miles away Where my fingertips felt like they could touch the infinite blue
...
Now, as I fall, I think mournfully to myself What a childish dream it was, to think I could ever leave the shackles of the ground
And yet... And yet I find myself 10 again Waiting for the next brush of heaven