Stories write themselves regardless Crumbled pages in the corner And space and time work side by side Some chapters long, some other shorter. It didn’t matter that the string broke All the clouds stole your good byes There were no instructions On how to make Kite strong enough to fly. We’re stumbling, sometimes stop over, Crumbled pages on the floor. But no regrets when there’s wonder Just a little smile when it’s no more. It didn’t matter that the string broke All the clouds stole your good byes There were no instructions On how to make Kite strong enough to fly In your hurricane skies (x8). Oh…no,no,no.. Higher we get, more we see Patterns forming possibility. Find the way to glide beside you And have it and free in your skies, in your skies, in your skies…