Can't you see I'm lying?
Don't you know I'm dying?
Guess what,

I'm not trying.

I feel more like flying.
Even the sky likes crying,
even the sky likes sighing.
Even fate is buying

me
time to go.
I don't mind though.
No one may even know.
It's been long since my body
parted my soul.

And so,
I don't even expect blue flowers
of woe.
This harsh wind,
is the anger I will blow.

No
more care.
No
more whys.
No
more saying my goodbyes.
Now
I jump
Now
I leap.
Now
I tumbled down so deep.
Among the demons,
I may creep.
Who said counting sheep,
could help me sleep?

Now i'm dying.
I'm not lying.
I was tired,
I stopped trying.
But my wings were stone,
and surely,

I'm not flying.