Father, we fled your house of grey.
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We ran from home to seek a place where our bodies would never grow.
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Dreamer, child, be cautious of this world!
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She has an appetite for boys and girls and she¡¯s hungry for your soul.
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Little boys with dreams of paper planes were never meant to scrape the sky!
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Keep your feet on the ground kid, only birds were meant to fly.
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Keep your head from the clouds kid, keep your wings,
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Always keep them by your side.
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Before you fly, you¡¯ll fall,
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Before you walk, you¡¯ll crawl¡¦.
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You¡¯ve no need to stitch your shadow to your heels,
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No, not this time.
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Son you¡¯ll walk with no whisper, no sound,
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Only the feet of the heavy hearted are held to the ground.
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You¡¯ve no need to draw the curtains son, throw them wide.
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Cross the borders between the never and the night.
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Find the twinkle in your smile, chase it on ¡®til morning,
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Past the second star to the right.
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We¡¯ll be the smoke curling on the still.
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The airship captains; we wait for sun to brush the hills.
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Son, I share your windward dreams,
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To soar from this little town of shacked up windows and swinging doors!
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The rafters creak and the floorboards groan
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While the shadows dance to the tapping of my toes.
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There¡¯s nothing left for us but altitude,
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We¡¯ll be the kings of the air.
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Stolen, by the wind that turns the leaves to razors.
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Holding just a string, our twine and our paper lost to the breeze.
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-----------------
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Antarctica
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| Hands Like Houses |