How can i fly

with my wings nailed to this rusted rooftop

hand me the knife

i'm slicing feathers to free myself

falling

on broken wings and broken dreams

falling

the ground is closer than it seems


pull me off this burning asphault

until

only the outline...

only the outline remains


for me to die

would take much more than seven stories

but as i lie

here bleeding...giving up feels warming


dont we all feel safe

in the arms of a falling angel


only the outline remains