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your head north follow lines on the canvas the sky is too big to fit through my eyes borrowed blue for a while silver etches windows in the sand take my hand i'm the hangar you're the plane follow instincts like roadsigns on a map with no markings reflections cut the air in two shaking hands at right angles to a wheel ever left the memory of a summer at an airport stand? take my hand i'm the hangar you're the plane you do all the miles i wait on the ground for you swimming your name has less letters in it every time i see you sometimes your altitude gets me down ten seconds to come home but you always take the long way sunshine makes a smoother land take my hand i'm the hangar your'e the plane From Letras Mania