IRC-Galleria

She was flying in her living room
And she was definitely bored
Trying to catch the fishes from the aquarium
Failing, fading to the door

And then she sent herself as a thought
Floating in the air, wind in her hair
As a promise she was honest
It was something she could share

And then she saw this boy in the street
Smoking, almost choking in his lies
As a wind she could soak in
And make him feel good for a while

She flew like an angel but without wings
That's how she went right trough his head
And that freshness he barely noticed
In his sorrow he rather would have been dead

Now she's lying in her living room
And she's completely numd
Tired of trying to feel what is real
Given in to the reasons for what's said and done