left to tie you to this place except a heavy, sinking ache. the water's surface settled down again, with one more secret buried below. that's one more
below the street, you heard a sigh of air brakes as a long good-bye. oh how i wish i could join you in the sky. to get out and up, away, into the light
? my, you're looking fine. it's been such a long time since you walked out without a sign. it's always easier to be leaving than to be the one left behind
dry brush waits for a spark, to be transformed into flames bright and true that would burn all night through. to be reborn is all that it wants, but as
found a moth sleeping in the folds of your dress. burnt out because he turned out such a mess. he'd caught sight of a light that called his name. caught
parked in your car, you're safe, you're saved. and though your hands shake and your lungs ache and the belt chafes, somehow you're still safe. four feet
no one else is on the street tonight, and you've never seen the city look so bright. you could go so far in your car and never stop, but you just keep
sun, you've run astray. what did we do to drive you away? does some new fear plague that i can't allay? have you grown weary of shining all day? it's
you dance so well for a girl about to fall asleep. and i keep hoping you'll stay along for another song, one more spin around the floor. this could go
safety net, i won't forget you're there. air is so unreliable - you can't count on anyone anymore. safety net, you won't forget i'm here? it's clear i
fourteen years ago, you left to wander the arizona sky. and i was nothing but a glimmer in your eye. no memories to weigh you down, but i'll still be
lost my patience outside a train station somewhere south of massachusetts, along with all the uses for my hands. back on track twenty-nine, and i'm on
in the house we will make someday, we'll sleep in on sunday. the sheets and the sun's rays will close all around, wash over like ocean sounds. we'll stay
the thin slip of moon through the shade was lost on sleeping eyes seeing smoke rise up through the birch and pine, where a sinking red sun found us, as
stranded on mountaintops, we dream of a world without wind to let us in, where the air's not so thin, and you don't spin away so easily each spring. tristan
for the boy who's left behind: you are the air. you are the heir, and you've inherited the sky. it's slowly filling up my eyes. i can't hold on if i try
icarus, i'm so sick of this. why would you leave, just when i need you most? get your head out of the clouds. when will you make me proud? icarus, please
