Goodbye 2025, hello 2026.
Goodbye 2025, hello 2026.
The winds deceive, they make you grieve, then chain you down unendingly.
Oh my little broken birdie, your wings grow weak and weary.
Each flight you dare loops back to snare, and mocks your dreams so bitterly.
The winds deceive, they make you grieve, then chain you down unendingly.
Oh my little broken birdie, your wings grow weak and weary.
Each flight you dare loops back to snare, and mocks your dreams so bitterly.