ANS (April 30th / New York)

The Bird

The bird flies so beautifully
So high above the world
The greatest feeling
Flying out so freely
The bird knows nobody can touch him now

Then peak time hits
The bird flies slower
His visions are a blur
The bright stars burn his eyes
He starts to fall down from the sky
He’s flying down so slow
There is no ground insight below him
Now he’s crashing down faster
His wings are clipped
He can’t fly so high again
He hits the floor hard
The bird is now gone

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