| What are those wings? |
| What is that rust?
|
| What are those tattered things that make you look like Icarus?
|
| Somebody stole your fairy dust
|
| And now the weight inside your chest betrays your wanderlust
|
| So you fall into the waves
|
| Of a thousand questions asked but none explained
|
| And now all, all you can do
|
| Is to trust that I’ll be waiting here to carry you
|
| I will carry you
|
| Spectators come from far away
|
| Like they have tickets to the circus on a Saturday
|
| Caught like a child in a parade
|
| You spread your arms but when you’re wounded
|
| You can’t fly away
|
| So you fall into the waves
|
| Of a thousand questions asked but none explained
|
| And now all, all you can do
|
| Is to trust that I’ll be waiting here to carry you
|
| I will carry you
|
| Smoke and feathers floating through the sky
|
| Like the tears that you cry
|
| Drops of melting wax rain down like fire
|
| And you’re so very tired
|
| So you fall into the waves
|
| Of a thousand questions asked but none explained
|
| And now all, all you can do
|
| Is to trust that I’ll be waiting here to carry you
|
| I will carry you
|
| What are those wings? |
| What is that rust? |