|
In your hands |
|
I'm trying flight |
|
I can't die |
|
In your hands |
|
I'm trying. |
|
In your hands |
|
I'm trying flight |
|
I can't die, |
|
I'm flying in the cold breeze every night |
|
Spare me all the strife |
|
My desires never tire but would it feel much better if |
|
I died?Petty highs get me by but how long must |
|
I live with this disguise... |
|
Have you no direction? |
|
I just sense pretentious signs... |
|
In your sighs |
|
Have you no direction? |
|
I just sense the pretentious signs |
|
In your highs... |
|
I hear the same old stories every night |
|
Spare me all the strife |
|
My desires never tire |
|
But would it feel much better if |
|
I died?Petty highs get me by |
|
But how long must |
|
I live with this disguise... |
