Rara Avis from Boots by Madeline Hawthorne

Well it’s time to take a trip on your own
Wanderin’ child, you rollin’ stone
Shackles fastened from lies
Have written your story now bonafied in your mind

You’ve been crawling through the mud
Shallow wounds with little blood
But the bruise is what hurts the most
Invisible wailing ghost, wailing ghost
mmm

Well you fucked up somewhere along the way
Got lost in the moon forgot the day
The mirror is your friend and your enemy
Traps you in or sets you free

Set me free
Free to fly
And I get so high
Kiss the sky
And I won’t come down
Rara avis can’t touch the ground
Rara avis can’t touch the ground
Can’t touch the ground

Well it’s time to take a trip on your own
Wanderin’ child you rolling stone
House is on fire time to reacquire
The words you lost not long ago
Written in a language you know
Easy like a spirit free to go
Let the wind carry you home
Let the wind carry you home

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