You ever just look up and think, "yeah, that's where I oughta be"? Constantly, like a voice on repeat,
kept whispering those lines.
Sometimes, in the breeze, a careless whisper, like
you've heard it a million times.
And maybe you play it again because you’re afraid of confronting
the same silence when it finally stops.
Because the record is broken, they're saying the same thing,
same thing again but missing words in between
I remember someone telling me, "up there's just for birds and dreams," and it made sense for a while.
Then I couldn't help but think— hey, maybe I should be up there, building castles in clouds,
knitting clouds with my fingers 'cause why not. Flying over a cotton sea perhaps too cozy to leave... or not?
Was that something you've thought about, or am I cycling through thoughts unraveled, unraveled...
"No strategies, no worries," whisper endless skies as they cradle dreams.
Follow this path or find solace in the timeless echoes of a looping dream.