The son of a father who fell farther than most.
And a mother who was better off being a ghost.
Haunted by dreams in which it always seemed
that my parents sins teamed up to swallow me whole.
And life would just grant me one pitiful role-
a pitiful soul-
in my very own eye.
But, Light, did it seem that inside there were wings
and in life there were beams of light brighter than dreams.
And sunshine would fly and be mine if I tried
And denied not the I that I knew was inside
As I seek to rise
I look back, not.
I've come far from where I started
But I have not forgot.
That life rolls and life tumbles
and there may be friction
but it all parts before
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