Break me if I'm to be broken dreams killed as first
words are spoken atlas lines define who we are flyers
glide taking us so far chalk lines contain our fantasies
light hearts dismissed with maturity I can't see the
writing that's on the pavement it seemed so clear before
and not as focused on behavior it's just me or were
things just different back then drawings left up on
the wall solely judged now on appearance I can see
an aged figure easily burning like a cigarette memories
littered with regret will this be my fate or a premonition
woken from my sleep with visions of my reflection I'm
just getting that feeling back when I thought I'd lost what I had