I love the feeling when we lift up,
The world so small below.
I love the feeling of dreaming when I think og,
The safety in my clouds out my window. I wonder what keeps us up so high.
Could there be a love beneath these wings?
So frightened of dying.
Relax, yes, I'm trying. But this fear's got ahold of me.
Yes, this fear's got ahold of me.

I love the quiet of the nightime.
When the sun is drowned in a deathly sea.
I can feel my heart beating as I speed from the sense of time catching up with me.
The sky set out like a pathway;
But who decides which route we take?
As people drift off into a dream world, I close my eyes
and my hands shake, and when I see a new day..
Whose driving this anyway? I picture my own grave.
Because this fear has got ahold me.
Yes, this fear has got ahold of me.

Floating neither up or down,
I wonder when I'll hit the ground.
Will the earth beneath my body shake?
And cast your sleeping hearts awake?
Could it tremble stars from moonlit skies.
Could it drag a tear from your cold eyes?
I live on the right side; I sleep on the left.
That's why everything has to be love or death.

Yes this fears got ahold of me.
This fear's got ahold of me.

------------------------
Journal CSS made by =caybeach
Texture by `Princess-of-Shadows
Vintage Music brushes by ~Scully7491