|
Passenger plane, cross-continental. |
|
Just can't fly to save my life. |
|
And all I can say, |
|
I'm half in the bottle, |
|
Your look still cuts me like a knife. |
|
But don't call it in, |
|
The day may be done, |
|
Swear that the lamp's been broken, |
|
But still there's a light. |
|
Adrift in this state, |
|
I'm damned to wander |
|
Tracing circles in the dust. |
|
And hours of late, |
|
I have to wonder, |
|
Does water cleanse the desert rust? |
|
Don't call in it, |
|
The day may be done, |
|
Swear that the lamp's been broken, |
|
But still there's a light. |
|
These aren't important things, |
|
They're just my possessions. |
|
They don't mean anything, |
|
You can have them. |
|
But don't call it in, |
|
The day may be done, |
|
Swear that the lamp's been broken, |
|
But still there's a light. |
|
Still there's a light, |
|
Still there's a light. |
