Hey Eugene This is Henry McClean And I've finished my beautiful flying machine 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 change Isn't it sad we're insane Laying the games that we know and in tears The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and thousands and...
Jumps into his cosmic flyer pulls his plastic collar higher Light the fuse and stand right back
He cried This is my last goodbey
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
people pushing on my sides is something that i hate and so is sitting down to eat with only little capsules on my plate
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 all we've got to say to you is goodbey It's time to go, better run and get your bags It's goodbey Nobody cry, it's goodbey Crash, crash, crash, crash, goodbey...