Falling Short.
Skyscraper Flying alone in an aircraft
Made of paper You're taking your home for granted
Just watch it slip through your fingers
It's melting
It's melting
It's melting.
Whiteboard Bet you write down all your plans
They're stored Against the future come to pass
A grain of sand, an empty glass
And nothing
And nothing
And nothing.
The windows They swallow you in and spit you out
You know it shows There's nothing for you to cry about
Atleast you're not trapped inside
The burning building
The building
The building.
The darkness Is riding the crest of noontide
It's your likeness There's no hiding destruction from the skies
Don't stop running and fear
The birds
The birds
The birds.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Fatherhood
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