Hey Jean
This is Henry McCLean
An' I'v finished my beautiful flying machine
An' I'm ringing to say
Ahat I'm leaving An' maybe
You'd like to fly with me
And hide with me baby
Isn't it strange
how little we change,
Isn't it sad we're insane
Playing the games that we know end in tears,
The games we've been playing
For thousands and thousands and thousands
Jumped into his cosmic flyer,
"pull this plastic glider higher
Light the fuse and stand well back," he cried,
"this is my last goodbye"
Point me at the sky and let it fly
Point me at the sky and let it fly
Point me at the sky and let it fly
And if you survive till two thousand and five
I hope you're exceedingly thin
For if you are stout you will have to breathe out
While the people around you breathe in (breathe in... breathe in... breathe in...)
People pressing on my sides is something that I hate
And so is sitting down to eat with only refuse on my plate
Point me at the sky and let it fly
And all we've got to say to you is goodbye
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
