Kite from Everyday Thinking by Tanner Cundy

I was caught up in a dream
I could ride a paper stream
To the atmosphere
Tiny knots, aeroplanes
Owls made of cellophane
Fly away from here

Kite is lifting, weather shifting
Fire down below
Sun is grinning, cause it's winning
So the story goes

What's the point of traveling
With all my sails unraveling
And all I taste is sand
Seems like the wind I need
Is half a mile down the beach
No matter where I stand

Kite is falling, ocean's calling
Maybe I should drive
Back to reason, missed the season
Thought I just arrived

Cause I wanted to fly high, woah
Fly high, woah
Fly high, woah
Fly high

• Acoustic
• Folk
• Pop
• Rock
• Portland