Paper Mâché
You have to give me room
You have to let me take this path alone
You have to give me room to spread my wings
I must learn to fly again
Starting from scratch
From paper mâché wings
I will earn my wings again
Once again
Somehow
Someway
From the bottom of the bottle
I shall rise
I will make paper mâché wings
Until I have the right to call myself free
Once more
Gluing myself together will be tough
Rearranging this carcass
To look like the being I once was
Will take a king and an angel
It will take steps
Baby steps
It will take time
It will take every bit of strength and artistic thoughts I have to pull this off
I will glue, sew, and recreate myself
To be a better being
I will build myself
I will build my wings
I will be made out of ash, pieces of flesh and bone
I will be made out of stones, soil, glue, scrap-metal, and string
Including paper mâché
And when I’m ready
I’ll throw myself off the edge of the earth
Just to see if I really have what it takes to survive
