I'm the last person to tell you I'm an angel but still I was given these paper wings and they came with a price.
A burden so heavy that I'm still unable to fly.
Every night I set fire to your house in my dreams; maybe one day I'll actually do it so I will finally look like a bad guy in your eyes.
Maybe then you will stop loving me and I can move on; and you can move on; and we can make this right.
And I know it's just a dream but I used to wish I knew what love felt like; but now I've had love, and now I've lost love, I wish that I never new it at all.
