With Paper Wings کے بول

I'm afraid that I'm coming apart with each days passing. I lost the air holding your hand burning up time breathing. My wrists so saddened by dull razorblades. And how brave I was staring into the sun wishing my heart was that strong. So don't say that its all gone because there are many days I swore I lost. My wrists so saddened by dull razorblades. You'll pull through this. I wake, I try, with paper wings I fly. And I am clenching faith again, falling to my knees again. And for the first time in my life, I thought that maybe I'd be right. I'm afraid I am coming apart with each days passing. Punching holes in the clouds, words gave way when whispers shatter the air. Sweing words together, to make them all fit right.