Why am I always chasing for stars out of reach in the sky?
When my wings are broken and useless?
When I don't know how to fly?
Why do I stare at the heavens and wish for angels in the clouds?
When I'm trapped on this cold earth and rooted firm in the desolate ground?
What would the galaxies want with a wandering soul in the dark?
When there are comets amongst the planets, that leave sparkling trails in our hearts?
I'll cut out a sail from my dreams,
And crash my cracked ship into the sea.
I doubt there'll be any stars in heaven
That will shine in remembrance of me.
