I’d never seen the ocean ‘til that afternoon,
The wind was bitter icy,
I promised we’d be leaving soon.
The gale picked me up,
Startled, from my perch I fly,
I was sort of happy until I met the tide.
Suddenly it was different, kind of like in a dream,
The very last thing I thought I heard was you begin to scream.
It’s so funny how things appear to be when you’re warm and safe at home,
It’s so funny how things begin to feel when you wind up in the middle of something real.
I’d never flown an aeroplane high across the skies, ‘til one Wednesday I got my chance when our pilot died.
As I climbed into the cabin, I heard the attendant say, “It’s just like riding the big wheel, except different in a way.”
When I sat down, it shocked me; not at all like on TV,
Lots more knobs, wheels and switches, and no parachute left for me.
It’s so funny how things appear to be when you’re warm and safe at home,
It’s so funny how things begin to feel when you wind up in the middle of something real.
So real.
I once thirsted on another planet; which one is hard to tell,
But if I had to draw it on a page, it’d look a lot like Hell.
A lot like Hell.
Lots of people with no faces weeping on the land,
As they harvest screams and grasses with arms that held no hands,
They drank a shrink, desire froze, begging for their cup,
Sand spilled forth from my lips, and I could no wake up.
It’s so funny how things appear to be when you’re warm and safe in bed,
It’s so sad how things begin to feel when you wind up in the middle of something real.
