We spend too much time With our feet planted firmly on the floor Never wondering What if feels like to fly
Even if we can't fly We have the next best thing We can jump We can leave these two dimensions of ours
Even if it's for a second I want to leave the world behind And believe I can fly
The problem with jumping Is the landing Some crumble on their knees While others take the impact fine
But you can never know what it feels like to land If you never take off in the first place So jump with me Jump away into an ephemeral flight Where seconds are eternities And the ground will never haunt us again
I had always thought of myself as an artist of some sort. That is, until I met you. It was only then that I learned what art is, where it comes from. When I met you, I only wanted to paint with the browns and oranges I saw in your eyes. I only wanted to write the words that fell from your lips. I only wanted to play the notes your voice guided me to. And when you left, I couldn't paint, couldn't write, couldn't play. I could only sing of my heartache, but even that wasn't art. There's no beauty in sorrow.