Fly

Fly

He wasn't just a man who died too young. He was my son, his pain was done, and he left, that's all.

He isn't just a memory, or a tragedy.

And God knows I miss him, but the tears are for me.

He was born in pain, and suffered years. He traded colors for his tears.

He saw a world above his mind, and drew the doors he couldn't find,

And he would fly, fly, fly, fly, fly...paint his colors in the sky.

He cried in blues and gold and red and green,

And God knows I miss him, but the tears are for me.

And then one day he was a man, not just my son, but now my friend.

A brilliant mind in agony, we talked of high philosophy.

An artist first, a soldier too. He found his dream and I just knew

That he would Fly, fly, fly, fly, fly...paint his colors in the sky.

I didn't know when we would meet again, but I loved him and I saw him in the wind.

A few years down the road, he began to fade away.

The Army turned his blacks and whites to gray.

The constant pain, the meds, they changed his mind,

And storms began to build, where once was clear blue sky.

I told him it's Ok to walk away, and when you're done, move on.

Your whole life is a book, and this is just one page.

How can I know, how can I know? Did I help him make the choice to go?

We thought that he was getting free. He was gonna build a gallery.

A place to show the world his mind, a tribute and a masterpiece.

But then, the call, the fear, the blow. How could we know, how could we know...

That he would fly, fly, fly, fly, fly...paint his colors in the sky.

"I'll find a way, or make one", was tattooed on his skin.

He drew a door, went through it, and met up with the wind.

Fly, fly, fly, fly, fly...paint your colors in the sky.

Blues and golds, and red and green

The prettiest sunsets ever seen

I see you in the blackest night

And clouds of purest angel white

And yellow sun, and golden moon

And violet and deepest blue

We don’t begin, we never end, and where we stop, we start again.

You always were, you always are.

The speed of mind...that's how fast and far that you can

Fly, fly, fly, fly, fly....paint your colors in the sky.

You never have to touch back down again. I love you, son, and I'll see you in the wind.

And God knows I miss him. But the tears are for me. The tears are for me. The tears are.....for me.