The falling timbre of your voice keeps me warm,
the incredible strength of your arms keeps me close,
the incredible lost dreams in your eyes make me mourn
and tomorrow I will move again; far, far away.
The soul is not free to fly
it is chained to our heartbreak
and it can not survive the abyss of darkness
that haunts our dreams.
The man who holds me
can not save me,
and the man whose dreams I briefly share
can not cage me.
So I mourn in the warmth
and I find comfort in the strength
and then as the sun rises on a new day
For your voice will never be deep enough
and your soul free enough
nor will your arms be strong enough
to find me in the nightmares.
For darkness is my soulmate
and fear is my friend,
for warmth is an illusion
and flying is the only freedom I will find.