Usherette of the Day

Then you grow colder like a dream,
I can't believe the practical things,
They're always out of reach,
And I know you're not really here,
These visions fly so quickly on the edge,
They're starting to take hold

But high above me I can see the surface now,
The picture perfect life is fading out of view,
And high above me I can feel the world,
But I don't need it, I don't need it...