Next door could be better I’ll write them a letter and beg them for hope…

(for leaving)

walk with me, talk with me, fly with me, cry with me...

I've been filling my pockets with nothing but moths and when I reach deep on down, surprise, all I've found is the dust of a dream filled with nothing but steam...

and then...this dove...she swooped in and stole me and I didn’t know me as well as her eyes did

I keep tumbling forward as this goal I move toward remains undefined but I laugh and I cry and each moment I try not to stop or give up...not to use up my luck...