Dreams, inconsistent angel things
Horses bred with star laced wings
But it’s so hard to make them fly,
Fly, fly
These wings beat the night sky ‘bove the town
One goes up and one goes down
And so the chariot hits the ground,
Bound, bound
We have forgotten
(don’t try to make me fly)
How it used to be
(I’ll stay here, I’ll be fine)
How it used to be
(don’t go and let me down)
How it used to be
(I’m starting to like this town)
When wings beat the night sky ‘bove the ground
Will I unwillingly shoot them down
With all my petty fears and doubts,
Down, down?
We have forgotten
(am I in love with this?)
How it used to be
(my constant broken ship)
How it used to be
(don’t go I’ll shoot you down)
How it used to be…
(I’m starting to like this town)
— Matt Slocum, Sixpence