Spread your wings, my friend
Pitch black and gold.
You know we never did what we were told.
Mine are yellow, acid green,
Glowing with a radioactive sheen.
Ink splatter, cookie batter,
Your wings won't fall apart.
Ink splatter, cookie batter,
Flying's just an art.
I know you're good at that,
So please hold on,
Moonlight's running and low and soon we'll only have the sun.
Moonlight's running and low and soon it'll all be gone.
Moonlight's running low and soon,
We'll most definitely have none.
Take my hand and spread your wings,
Shimmering like trinkets and pretty things.
Catch some air and hold it close, hover way up high.
And soon, my friend, you're sure to know,
What it is to fly.
