Barclay James Harvest — Paper Wings
His crazy fame against the dawn
His hungry leap and ragged fall
A suicidal perch is now laid bare
To searching eyes and empty stares.
A fearful silence hits the crowd
The air hangs heavy with the sound
Of useless wings against a morning sky
As paper yields before their eyes.
Oh can you see him now
A broken man without a dream
Oh can you hear him now
A futile laugh above the screams.
