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.