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Long Days Flight |
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(Weakley/Yorty) |
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People run in circles around each other's minds |
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Aw they're playin games and they're callin' names |
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Tryin' hard not to speak unless they're spoken to |
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On their Long Days Flight till tomorrow |
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Smoke filled rooms with prophets all waiting for |
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Their day. They philosophise and close their eyes |
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Drift to deep and dark illuminations on their |
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Long Days Flight till tomorrow |
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Sometimes I find these people coming out of light |
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They have found themselves underground |
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They have found everything going down, sir |
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Each one asks the other why so many lose their way |
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You think they've found some solid ground while all |
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Around them you know that time is moving, on their |
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Long Days Flight till tomorrow. |
