i'm failing, my waxy wings won't fly
i'm too close to the sun and i know
i'm going to fall, sooner or later i'm going to
fall and impale myself on a sharp rock, a sharp boy
you're like a needle, injecting me with
suppositions and superstitions and
hope! i have hope now and it's
all your fault!
but maybe for once it isn't forged
maybe for once i can say
this is reality
and mean it.