The Wicked

Sometimes the breeze lets me fall, I breathe and I fade
away. Tonight I'll feel the panic like I did before.
Tonight I'll sink into the artic. March into the
photograph, now. You fall, you climb, you collapse out of
control. Turning me towards a darker radius and turning
towards you. If you still love me would I be alright? No,
just let me shatter, for me its not okay.