Fly high, fly high, fly high,
They yell at me, goodbye!
But what if my wings are not fully grown,
And when I try to drift, they bring me back home.
In the air, I would bury my soul.
Glancing at clouds, I reckon all the things,
I did when I was young when I was immature.
They say fly, fly, fly and I forgot where I came from.
My wings getting smaller than before,
Alarm ring, I wake up and I’m back at the home.
Some dreams are worth waking so that you could fly higher,
Even if tragedy happens you could stabilize your fire.