Dreams, inconsistent angel things.
Horses bred with star-laced wings.
But its so hard to make them fly, fly, fly.
These wings beat the night sky bove the town.
One goes up and one goes down.
And so the chariot hits the ground, bound, bound.
We have forgotten (dont try to make me fly)
How it used to be (Ill stay here, Ill be fine).
How it used to be (dont go and let me down)
How it used to be (Im starting to like this town).
When wings beat the night sky bove the ground,
Will I unwillingly shoot them down
With all my petty fears and doubts, down, down?
We have forgotten (am I in love with this?)
How it used to be (my constant broken ship)
How it used to be (dont go, Ill shoot you down),
How it used to be (Im starting to like this town).
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