Flying Too Close to the Sun

Round and round without a sound

Moving in perfect circles

Winter night, all is white

Skating out on thin ice.

Arms held wide either side

I'm trying not to look down

Step by step, straight ahead

Walking a fine, fine line.

Onward I go and though I know

This is a dangerous past time

I feel compelled to do this well

Walking a fine, fine line.

High I fly through sunlit skies

Upward and onward I go

At some stage I'll come undone

From flying too close to the sun.

Higher I go and though I know

This is a dangerous past time

I feel compelled to do this well

Flying tok close to the sun.