Foreign Fields - Correct Me lyrics

Saturday night, I'm still running wild Still cleaning my wounds like an unloved child In the end, I don't wanna die I wasn't made for this life Saturday night, I 'm a broken bird These terrible songs that I know you heard In the end, I don't wanna fly I wasn't made for the sky All these years, oh, they're pa**ing me by Now I'm all out of time I'll let gravity do what it does and correct me Since that day that I tore off my wings And I learned how to dive I'll let gravity do what it does and correct me All these years, oh, they're pa**ing me by Now I'm all out of time I'll let gravity do what it does and correct me Since that day that I tore off my wings And I learned how to dive I'll let gravity do what it does and correct me Oh no... I think I'm dying here! Dying here! I'm dying Dying...