I hang to your words like I’m hanging of a plane

High above the city.

The clouds, they shift and swirl, to make images of us

High above the city.

The doves and swans soar along to signify what I lack

High above the city.

The sun shifts and the rain falls

High above the city.

People fall in love on terraces while they sing and dance

High above the city.

I dare look to the thousands of lights in my dark room

High above the city.

Sometimes when I am reminded of you I wonder what it would be like to fall

High above the city.