He tells his mates his bird’s amazing but he can’t appreciate she’d carve perfection from a daydream if she spread her feathered blades. He says one day they’ll fly together but she knows they’ll never go. He’s tethered her to these four walls he calls home. He’s not dishonest, but this failed ornithologist he’s full of broken promises he doesn’t understand. You see she’s built for bigger things, for distant winds. He’s clipped her wings and she can’t sing how she once sang.
She’s sitting quietly just breathing in the dark, all light fades when things fall apart. She brings tears to my ears when she sings but she can’t fill her lungs.
He keeps her feet on the ground, he’s not one for exploring. Repetition comforts him, but she’s getting bored of false hope, twiddled thumbs, tomorrow never comes, and her albatross wingspan weighs heavy on this man. She hopes it’s not too late to smash the apathy, an aeronautic acrobat, she’d autograph the stratosphere. He tells his mates his bird’s amazing, but it means nothing that she stays with him if she can’t fly away.
She’s sitting quietly just breathing in the dark All light fades when things fall apart. She brings tears to my ears when she sings But she can’t fill her lungs.
She’s got the energy of mayhem, bottled up like raw chaos and the world should be her playpen but it’s not. She’s been so patient years have passed and day to day she wonders when but in the end she has to wait.
She’s sitting quietly just breathing in the dark All light fades when things fall apart. She brings tears to my ears when she sings But she can’t fill her lungs. She’s sitting quietly just breathing in the dark All light fades when things fall apart. She brings tears to my ears when she sings But she can’t fill her lungs.