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| © 2006 Paul's Northern Adventures. All rights reserved. |
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| Point Me In The
Sky |
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Hey Gone, this is Henry Maclean
And I
finished my beutiful flying mashine
And I'm ringing to say that
I'm leaving and maybe
You'd like to fly with me and hide with me,
baby
Isn't it strange how little we changed
Isn't it we're
insane
Playing the games that we know end in tears
The games
we've been playing for thousands and thousands
Point me to
this comic flight
And throw away the plastic coloured eye
I'd
like to use the static miles that we fly
This is my last
summarize
Point me in the sky and let me fly
And if
you survive till two thousant and five
I hope you're exceedingly
thin
For if you are stout you will have to breath out
While
the people around you breathe in, breathe in
People blaspheme
all I say
To something that I hate to say
Stooping down to eat
the air
Breathe careful that you might die, my friend
All
we've got to you is goodbye
Time will die in your eye
And we
fly, it's goodbye
Point me in the sky and let me fly |
| Embryo |
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All is love, is all I am
A ball is all I
am
I'm so new compared to you
And I am very small
Warm
glow, moon bloom
Always need a little more room
Waiting here
seems like years
Never seen the light of day
All around I
hear strange sounds
Come gurgling in my ear
Red the light and
dark the night
I feel my dawn is near
Warm glow, moon
bloom
Always need a little more room
Whisper low, here I
go
I will see the sunshine show |
| Crumbling Land |
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In a while I'll find the time to make the
sunshine mine
In a smile I saw a single eagle in the
sky
Wheeling, soaring, gliding high
On a hill there lived
a man with many shining things
Shiny gold, shiny car and shiny
diamond rings
Wining, dining, shining king
Now the eagle
flies in clear blue skies
Drinking in the clear blue well
Back
here on the ground another dealer coughs and dies
But fifty more
come rolling off the floor production line
Then a man
commuting like a village on the sand
In his hand a moving picture
of the crumbling land
Screaming, dealing, movie man
Here
we go, hold your breath to see if something blows
Close your
eyes, count till ten and see the sunrise rise
Gliding high into
the sky
By the holy mansion, let the guardian rise
Upon
the finger of the king
On high the eagle flies, that glitter all
of gold
Then wheeling a cloudy sky, he flies into the
sun
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