As weâre taking flight I canât deny the sense of longing to be, of longing to be on solid ground. Free as a bird but trapped like we belong inside a cage, and thereâs no one with the grace to let us out. Solid is the ground that sitâs beneath us. Tailor made the contours that we pace. And here we are with no one here to teach us just how to reach this long forgotten place. Keep moving forward and youâll find that all
the threats are obsolete, relying on the language that we speak. And restore your balance and weâll climb until thereâs nothing left to reach. These barricades are here to teach us how to grow. But as we step inside this world of make believe (canât shake the feeling that itâs) something thatâs just not meant to be. Just remember now we wonât feel a thing as we all
come back to life. And the scars we bear wonât mean a thing; weâll be smiling as we sail out on towards a common goal. These mere complexities will bring the means that will provide the exultation for the soul. Because we know the answers but weâre struggling to speak (for now). Canât hear our voices but weâll crawl from the deep (somehow). We will outrun these apparitions that we fear, the implication of belief becoming clear.