Paper Arms bright lights

Remember the breaking day
Waking up in pain
A smile stuck on your face?
Remember the broken bones
Before we needed homes
And life got in the way?
Young and reckless.
Bright lights, I see you growing dull.
Bright lights, remember when we held the sun?
I may be an optimist
But still I must insist
We used to get this right
And it just kills me
To think that growing up
Means throwing the fight.