Paper wings glued to my back
They’re what they tell us we can fly with
I believe that we’ll outgrow them
Yet others with them they may die with

Paper wings that wrinkle easily
Must only be temporary
Hurt so easily are we—though
They endure adolescence, on the contrary

Paper wings take you only so high
And it’s only to this altitude they may go
In the moment it seems high enough
But when we look back we see that it’s awfully low

Our paper wings will rip, my friend
And in return we’ll receive a new type
I don’t know what these will be like
We may, when the time becomes ripe