The first time I flew,
I was seated on the window side.
Ground less and dust less,
It was almost like a bus ride.
I peeped out, I saw clouds floating.
As white and irregular as ever,
But closer, and this time
I was the one watching over.
Like in a boat in the middle of a sea,
It was all so still, although we did fly,
Blue up and blue beneath,
Nobody could tell where was the sky.
It all looked so unreal, an act.
Like a stage set for a fairy tale.
And through the window, from my eyes,
I was sipping it like an ale.
I was seated on the window side.
Ground less and dust less,
It was almost like a bus ride.
I peeped out, I saw clouds floating.
As white and irregular as ever,
But closer, and this time
I was the one watching over.
Like in a boat in the middle of a sea,
It was all so still, although we did fly,
Blue up and blue beneath,
Nobody could tell where was the sky.
It all looked so unreal, an act.
Like a stage set for a fairy tale.
And through the window, from my eyes,
I was sipping it like an ale.
I can see my wings, but I can't feel them,
I pass through clouds, but can't touch the same.
Is this really flying,
Or just a pretence in its name?
