From running away all this time,
I’m out of breath.
From all the seasons I’ve seen,
I’m out of strength.

I gave up what I had to live again.
My mind was already bruised.
I didn’t think I’d be the one to run out.
I’m usually the one who ends up with the scars.

Like a bird in the sky,
I’m free but I’m lost.
Like a candle in the dark,
I can see, but I’m lost.

I wiped my slates clean, to start again.
The bridges I burnt will light the way.
I’m not going to be left on the ground.
I want to find my own way.