I’m unraveling the thoughts from a dream I forgot
Tying my spirit in a delicate knot
The wallpaper peels in a floral decay
I’m finding the colors the sun threw away
I am a liquid form in a world made of stone
I melt at harsh words to which I am prone
Oh, let the rhythm be wide and the logic be thin
I’m living in the spaces where the secrets begin
It’s a quiet rebellion, a soft kind of war
To be something the world hasn’t tasted before
There is a fire in the fold, a grace in the strange
I am the ink on the page that refuses to change
My heartbeat's a pulse that I wear on my sleeve
I only tell stories that I want to believe
I’m a bird made of paper, a boat made of breath
I’m dancing on the edge of a beautiful depth
Don’t ask for the sun, don't ask for the shore
I’ve opened a lock on an invisible door
Oh, let the rhythm be wide and the logic be thin
I’m living in the spaces where the secrets begin
It’s a quiet rebellion, a soft kind of war
To be something the world hasn’t tasted before
There is a fire in the fold, a grace in the strange
I am the ink on the page that refuses to change

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