Driving in to work this morning I couldn't stop looking at the sky.
The orange-purple shade slowly fading into blue, and the leftovers of the past night's clouds -- hanging like streched pieces of cotton nervously pulled from the inside lining of a winter coat's pocket.
And all the while that I was staring at it
I secretly wished that I knew how to fly
Not to get so far away from anything, or to be that much above -- but so that I could be the one to make the wingtrails that streak across the sky.
I've always wanted to be able to do that.
To be that high. To go that fast. To be able to have my path followed by a kid lying flat on the grass of a backyard somewhere with one eye open, and an outstreched finger tracing the line.
A kid like I was..
A kid like me
The orange-purple shade slowly fading into blue, and the leftovers of the past night's clouds -- hanging like streched pieces of cotton nervously pulled from the inside lining of a winter coat's pocket.
And all the while that I was staring at it
I secretly wished that I knew how to fly
Not to get so far away from anything, or to be that much above -- but so that I could be the one to make the wingtrails that streak across the sky.
I've always wanted to be able to do that.
To be that high. To go that fast. To be able to have my path followed by a kid lying flat on the grass of a backyard somewhere with one eye open, and an outstreched finger tracing the line.
A kid like I was..
A kid like me
[Listening to: Steely Dan, "FM"]
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