Weather Machines (The)
32,000' Above Suck City
My eyes are terrorized by city lights belowMy mind's too paralyzed to think the things I knowTwo hours and I can't help feeling that I'm just about a third-class jerk32,000 feet above Suck City, tell me What's the point of these young Turks? I lack the vision that controls the things I seeI lost ambition to my thinking man's diseaseIs it so hard to interrupt that cheap routine?Is it uncivilized to split this fractured scene?Two hours on an A320 and it's just about to get much worse32,000 feet above Suck City, tell What's the chance we're in reverse? 'Cause we're two hours from a drop-dead feeling Like we're past the point of no return32,000 feet above Suck City'Til there's nothing left but crash and burn
From Letras Mania