Artificial,

prosthetic hands,

sympathetic, but I'll put and end to this.

(ooo...)

Can't keep fighting, do I have to keep fighting?



Stop breathing.

Stop breathing.



It's not the same,

it's not the same,

'cause I was just a kid, dad--Ohho-ohho...



It does not do to dwell on dreams. 

Acceptance takes you further than you ever thought you'd go. 

(When you chase the ghost of things that could have been, 

like a father who was never there.)

The ghosts of things that could have been,

like the father who was never there at all,

at all.



(I was a boy

now I'm a plane, 

but I can't keep this holding pattern anymore.)