Part 1

Perspective one says… 

We were never meant to be normal,

Not with the lives we live 

Our tongues are coated in languages

Our skin in passport stamps 

Our hearts are strung to a map 

Tethered forever to the goodbye and plane tickets 

We were never meant to be rooted, 

Not when we were born to have wings stitched onto our backs

Our bodies forever branded with the sky 

Airports become as familiar as the places we’re supposed to call home

“Where you from?” is as hard a question to answer as calculus is with a first-grade education 

“Where is home?” is like asking which strand of hair I like best

There were too many, are too many, will be too many… to call home… 

Home is a figment of our imagination, 

“Home is where your heart is” equals to folklore we grew up with

Our hearts have been shattered and scattered across a globe

We can never be normal

Not with the lives, we are living 

Our footprints mark the miles between countries 

Our wings mark the oceans crossed

Our incredible inevitable crazy lives 

Mark only those who live in memories

We can never be normal 

Wishing to be is a long… almost… forgotten dream

We will never be… “normal”

Our paths were chosen before we knew “Yes” 

Wings stitched before we knew “No” 

Goodbyes and plane tickets tethered before we knew “Stop!”

Hearts strung before we knew “Please!” 

Skin stamped and tongues coated before we knew… “Ok… ” 

We… can never be…

Part 2

Perspective two says… 

We were never meant to be normal

Our tongues are coated in languages

Our skin in passport stamps 

Our hearts were made for this chaos 

Tethered forever to the adventure and high wind turbulences

We were never meant to be rooted  

Not when we were born with wings protruding from our backs 

Airports become a familiar harbor 

We are from everywhere and nowhere 

A piece of our heart remains in each country we’ve traveled to 

The trail markers of our lives 

We can never be normal

Our footprints mark the miles on maps  

Our wings mark the oceans feet could never cross

Our incredible inevitable crazy lives 

Are burned into our brains

Lasting till dust returns to dust 

We will never be… “normal”

Our paths take us in a thousand different directions 

We never saw coming  

Our wingspan is half the length of our courage

Our adventures are written in a blank book

The turbulence is a victory cry in sign language 

Our hearts are made resilient 

Our skin is begging for stamps 

Our tongues are already learning 

We are incredibly inevitably crazy

Isn’t it extraordinary… how we… can never be…