My level of sarcasm’s gotten to a point where I don’t even know if I’m kidding or not.
I was Icarus, and I never flew too close to the sun.
I was Icarus, and I flew just as close as I meant to.
I was Icarus, and my wings were made of wax
and I knew.
I was Icarus and it was worth it:
Climbing toward a furnace of light
just to catch a glimpse
what are taxes and how do I pay them?
mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell
I’ve got my warmest sweater on tonight
Yet I’m shaking from the breeze
I shut the window, pull the blanket around tight
I still feel the chill of you keeping me ‘wake
In the dead of the night