The match head meets the striker,
Turning friction into flame.
Is this art or is it arson,
And am I the one to blame?
Icarus into the sun,
With my wax wings I'm rising higher.
Breathing sparks like dragon lungs,
Consuming myself in constant fire.
Turning friction into flame.
Is this art or is it arson,
And am I the one to blame?
Icarus into the sun,
With my wax wings I'm rising higher.
Breathing sparks like dragon lungs,
Consuming myself in constant fire.
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