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Morning Flight
04:31
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See the ground, miles down below
Mountain tops lightly filled with snow,
You always told me not to fly so high,
But were you simply terrified to touch the sky, I wonder why,
I’ll flap my wings in a hurricane of everlasting love,
And I’ll learn to fly in the morning sky, as the sun shines high above,
You’re always trying to stop me, just because you hate to fly,
I see you there, high up in the air,
Floating up, without a single care,
I see the wind has shifted and your coming down,
I’m hurrying to catch you before you hit the ground, don’t make a sound
I’ll flap my wings in a hurricane of everlasting love,
And keep you safe in a special place a thousand miles above,
You’re always there to catch me, even though you hate to fly,
I’ll flap my wings...
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DIG Albuquerque, New Mexico
Troubadour and Desert Exile. Alchemically spawned from a proscribed transmutation of Sun, fire, wind, dust, asphalt, deep fryer oil, cassettes, vinyl records, cd's, guitar strings, and sympathetic vibrations. All part of this balanced breakfast.
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