I guess I always knew
you were meant to fly away.
The thread I was gripping on to
was the thread I was holding on to.

I want you to know
that you dont need me anymore.
But what’s left of the thread
wrapped around my wrist
will leave some marks.

Who’s to say where the wind will take you.
Who’s to say what breeze will break you.
Who’s to know when the clocks will turn around
I always wanted to see you fly
And I know, this is not a goodbye.

Far away, above the blue sea
I’ll see a kite swaying with the breeze
And I’ll wonder what’s happened to you.
And may be you’ll wonder what’s happened to me.

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