i hear them the helicopters we could have been in new york battling it out under some loft in alphabet city but we are not i follow the lines as long as they let me fly and with you i fly so high you are an angel your skin makes me cry i cannot reach you up there your are light i am so much more of the earth i spring up ut of the ground growing toward the light burnt and burnt again i will dry out and whither away long before i reach you
all works presented herein are 'threewords' with the exception of reposted videos duly titled.