In a box under my bed
I've kept them safe from all the world
And every one wished upon in some way
But that never works out
Burning bright then burning out
Disappear and then fall down
Are they special, or just broken,
Dying or moving on..
Am I always wrong?
Did you see it?
There's another one right there;
And it's falling
'Cause it's finished being a star
Can you feel it?
Does it mean as much to you?
(Am I that wrong?
Is it me every time?
Show me how to take this as you
go on and on)