Clouds
A beautiful mistake on an otherwise perfect sky.
A white imperfection in the shape of my imagination.
Wild horses run free, and dragons breathe fire...
Castles lower their drawbridges, and lovers kiss.
What have I done for you cloud...?
For you bring me the most pleasant of days,
but you can't hear my smiles or laughter.
A cloud gets sick, turns old and gray.
Generous, the cloud, who gives his life so another may live.
Blood trickles down from the sky.
This blood we bathe in.
This blood which lets us grow.
A white imperfection in the shape of my imagination.
Wild horses run free, and dragons breathe fire...
Castles lower their drawbridges, and lovers kiss.
What have I done for you cloud...?
For you bring me the most pleasant of days,
but you can't hear my smiles or laughter.
A cloud gets sick, turns old and gray.
Generous, the cloud, who gives his life so another may live.
Blood trickles down from the sky.
This blood we bathe in.
This blood which lets us grow.