|
He could've tuned in, tuned in |
|
But he tuned out |
|
A bad time, nothing could save him |
|
Alone in a corridor, waiting, locked out |
|
He got up outta there, ran for hundreds of miles |
|
He made it to the ocean, had a smoke in a tree |
|
The wind rose up, set him down on his knee |
|
A wave came crashing like a fist to the jaw |
|
Delivered him wings, "Hey, look at me now" |
|
Arms wide open with the sea as his floor |
|
Oh, power, oh |
|
He's.. flying |
|
Whole |
|
High.. wide, oh |
|
He floated back down 'cause he wanted to share |
|
His key to the locks on the chains he saw everywhere |
|
But first he was stripped and then he was stabbed |
|
By faceless men, well, fuckers |
|
He still stands |
|
And he still gives his love, he just gives it away |
|
The love he receives is the love that is saved |
|
And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky |
|
A human being that was given to fly |
|
High.. flying |
|
Oh, oh |
|
High.. flying |
|
Oh, oh |
|
He's flying |
|
Oh, oh |
