Verge Of Three

Gray skies merge
On the verge of three
A shout was heard
That I'm coming free!

From high to low
I've bent to seek
I singed my brow
I've skinned my cheek

A length of arm
Within my palm
Feel of the sun
Beneath my thumb

Gray skies merge
On the verge of three
A cry was heard
This is not for me!

I flew above
The pallid skies
To find the love
For which I'll die

And fly I did
To feel the storm
Not knowing if
Things would go wrong

To put myself
On the verge of three
I killed the soul
I used to be...

And it's bleeding...

Inside of me...

And I'm weeping...

But you'll...

Never...

See...