Flight

Standing on top of the world,

a mountain of glass beneath my feet.

Baby, I can breathe in smoke, breathe out fire

everytime I close my eyes; everytime I sing out loud

a raging ocean, billowing clouds.

I can fly

into the sky.

Staring right into the sun. Open your windows

and sing your songs of revolution.

Living for a quick fix. Living for celebration.

Learning how to deal with it, dealing out the medication.

I can fly

into the sky.