How come these precious things were made to seem remote How come the words I weighed were forced back down my throat There was no room for honesty No quarter that was mine No noble cause I tried fake a life To fool those snapping jaws
From here I dare to launch my flimsy paper boats I shove each gently from the shore but guard it where it floats They must not drift too far from me I still sense danger and They are too frail In time they'll catch the wind And fly with billowed sail