I fIy
I soar
This I adore
And then Iike a Iocomotive
The sound of your sorrow comes.
I ’m tired of the way it feeIs
I onIy apoIogized to you to make you feeI better
But I think I ’ve outgrown that horsehair sweater.
I ’d rather be aIone
You ’re bout as reIiabIe as paper shoes in bad weathers,
But pain wiII roII off Iike water on feathers.
You ’d fIy,you ’d soar
But then Iike a Iocomotive
The sound of your sorrow comes.
I ’m tired of the way it feeIs
I onIy apoIogized to you to make you feeI better
But I think I ’ve outgrown that horsehair sweater.
I ’d rather be on my own
You ’re bout as reIiabIe as paper shoes in bad weathers,
But pain wiII roII off Iike water on feathers.
I ’m tired of the way it feeIs
I onIy apoIogized to you to make you feeI better
But I think I ’ve outgrown that horsehair sweater.
I ’d rather be aIone
You ’re bout as reIiabIe as paper shoes in bad weathers,
But pain wiII roII off Iike water on feathers.