≥Things That Might Fly Free≤

March 9-10, 1999

Youπre a movement out the corner of my eye.

Youπre an imagination thought too much.

The music I hear recalls your face.

The people I know, they keep saying your name.

But things not meant to be arenπt there

And things that might fly free donπt care.

Youπre here, youπre thought, youπre everywhere.

Itπs time I found that you donπt care.

Youπre gentle as a feathered wind.

Youπll give someone something to save.

Your photo of life has cut off my face.

The camera aimed, so then you smiled,

So things not meant to be arenπt true

And things just might fly free to you.

Youπre there, youπre soul, youπre feeling, too.

Itπs time I found what else to do.

Iπm standing here on Friday morning.

The air is still, no one else around,

But so much noise rings in my head.

I knew your thought just wouldnπt go.

When things arenπt meant to be, I know,

And things that might fly free will grow.

Youπre past, youπre now an oceanπs throw.

Itπs time I let the whole thing go.

When things not meant to be are burned,

Things that might fly free are turned.

Youπre something that I havenπt earned.

Itπs time I lost what I had yearned.