Besedila: Ride. Seagull.

My eyes are sore, my body weak,
My throat is dry, I cannot speak.
My words are dead,
Falling like feathers to the floor.
You gave me things I'd never seen,
You made my life a waking dream.
But we are dead,
Falling like ashes to the floor.

Definitions confine thoughts, they are a myth,
Words are clumsy, language doesn't fit.
But we know there's no limit to thought,
We know there's no limits.
Now it's your turn to see me rise,
You burned your wings, now watch me fly,
Above your head.

Looking down I see you far below,
Looking up you see my spirit glow.