Lyrics

The trees form a carpet as I fly overhead
Another trip in an airplane that same old feeling of dread
I am dimly aware of life thirty thousand feet below
But I'm acutely aware of one million moving parts that make this thing go

I can see myself strolling down the jetway
Make my getaway, happy that it's done
I can see myself in shattered pieces on the ground
If, in fact, this thing goes down

There's a little kid beside me she's reading pictures on the emergency card
She says "I hope we don't land in the water, I hope that we land on the land"
I said "Your seat bottom cushion may be used for flotation if this plane becomes a boat"
She says "Mister, no offense, but you're a fool if you really think this thing can float"

I can see myself strolling down the jetway
Make my getaway, happy that it's done
I can see myself in shattered pieces on the ground
If, in fact, this thing goes down

Now we barter with the devil, and make our promises to god
Saying "If you'll get me through this one then you know I'll join your crowd"
But it's cold comfort and we know it every time we roll them dice
We're always hoping for boxcars seems it's always coming up snake-eyes

I can see myself strolling through this lifetime walking down easy street
I would sell my golden crown to keep this thing from going down and see the sunrise of another day
I can see myself strolling through this lifetime walking down easy street
I would sell my golden crown to keep this thing from going down and see the sunrise of another day
And make my getaway...