Real love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story—or… if you’d rather just stay in the dream.

Still I would want to be someone who’d answer to me:
Someone who sees like a child, gives like a saint,
feels like an angel — never mind the broken wings,
and speaks like a picture, cries like the rain, shines like a star,
as long as the fire remains.

…considering the weight of the bricks I laid, now that I’m through..
One by one, sealed every crack that I could slip between to find my way back…
you can’t go back home once you’ve cast it away..
The heavy weight of promises made, if I could exonerate, I might just lift off today.
You can’t go back home once you’ve cast it away.