Russian roulette with the midnight wind

every midnight you have an obsession to feed
you are climbing a cliff, the world at your feet
you are spreading your arms where the strings have been cut
with a smile on your lips and your eyes tightly shut

an impossible bet that you can’t ever win
playing Russian roulette with the midnight wind

you can never predict which way it will blow
to the stars up above or the rocks below
it’s the pull of the earth or the pull of the sky
you can never predict if you’ll fall or fly

when the night lifts you up, takes you under her wing
you’ll be one of the stars pushed along by the wind
when the night throws you down crushing you with her weight
you’ll be pinned to the ground, unsure of your fate

you’re on top of the cliff facing heaven and hell
you are reckless and light walking under a spell
you are taking the wind like a blow to the ribs
with your eyes tightly shut and a smile on your lips

playing Russian roulette with the midnight wind
an impossible bet that you can’t ever win