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

I flee.

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.