The  plane is starting to smoke. I think that everyone knows, that this thing will soon be going down. some people think that we'll choke, some people think there's hope. which will it be? 



When we know we see the ending quickly fading, we see that we're dying. I know it's a tragedy that sometimes people can lose their wings, now we're crashing down, what will they see?. when there's nothing left, who are we?



It's going down like a flame. There's no one out there to blame. We made our choice and now there's no more time. 



The black box is hearing the hope and the fearing. what will it say? after all the smoke has cleared there's only one record that they'll ever see. Our black box says it all, it tells them who we are