Don't you tell me not to cry.
You see, it really hurts to fly.
Beat your wings against the wind.
Leave home and never see it again.
Over the hills you'll find something new,
But only if you can decide what is true.

Come with me, take my hand.
Beat those wings, forget to land.
Fly and fly until you're sore.
Dream or not, you'll long for more.

So, don't dare tell me not to cry,
Nor to think of days gone by.
I look forward to the end.
When Son of He shall come again,
And teach us all to soar.
Along with him, we;ll live forever more.

Don't stare that way, I'm quite content,
With the promises He sent.
It's He who taught me to soar,
Till tiem mattered to me no more.
You these tear, of pain and joy,
From the man who was once a boy.
What you see as hurt will turn to gain,
When my savior comes agian.