No more,No more do the wings need to beat
against rusted bars and cuffs need to be ripped
from my wrists
black ink wings strech for as long as the waves wash over me,
slide under the sheet,
and the cuts bleed,
as the yellow comes again.
You're here to lift me high above though,
and i'm here to glide around with such blonde beautiful butterflys,
they leave red.
Such beautiful blonde butterflys holding my hand
and the waves take you,
and as i awake,
i have found,
that dream.. that i cast.. i did cast it right?
Well. that. Dream. is. no. longer. a. dream.
I cast over,
The blue is swelling,
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