Is it the same boy who kicks that pigeon
Who really wants to fly like a dove
Is God really that far above
Or is he caught in the heart of a child’s smile

I’ll facsimile my life and send you a copy
So its waiting for you when you get back
Home which I know will be never because
I can’t catch the lie of our memory’s glance

This life’s over too quickly and we only
Remember to appreciate it with hind sight
Though I’m blind I can see over everywhere
And its sad that I choose today to die.