Fear in love, rust and sound; these things wouldn’t make me profound
Found again and again, but still I never begin; they say I’m flying high, but still, I never will win.
There’s no reason to panic, even though I’m always frantic. I look outside and the view’s pretty damn fantastic
Rhyming is a way of thinking out of the box, like how I have words such as “chicken pox”
Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but I didn’t come here for your defense
Again, again, again, again. We all want to start again
But we’ve begun. Our songs were sung.
And now we sit here in limbo like I’m some sort of bimbo
My mind may be pretty blank, but I still have thoughts to flank
Is this a song? Is this wrong? Tell me what you think this is
I could explain to you the awful truth, but I’d rather let you rip out my tooth
It’s pained and I’m pained but still I never fly
I feel numb
But then I rise
Here I am, not only have I begun, but this is a song that can truly be sung
Here I fly. No reasons left to cry