idiologue

Point Me At The Sky

Hey Jean, this is Henry McLean,
And I've finished my beautiful flying machine.
And I'm ringing to say that I'm leaving,
And maybe you'd like to fly with me and hide with me, baby.
Isn't it strange how little we change,
Isn't it sad we're insane.
Playing the game that we know ends in tears,
The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and thousands...

Jumped into his cosmic flyer,
Pulled his plastic collar higher,
"Light the fuse and stand well back,"
He cried, "this is my last goodbye!"

Point me at the sky and let it fly!
Point me at the sky and let it fly!
Point me at the sky and let it fly!

And if you survive 'till two thousand and five,
I hope you're exceedingly thin,
For if you are stout you will have to breathe out,
While the people around you breathe in, breathe in, breathe in...

People pressing on my sides,
Is something that I hate,
And so is sitting down to eat,
With only little capsules on my plate.

Point me at the sky and let it fly!
Point me at the sky and let it fly!
Point me at the sky and let it fly!

And all we've got to say to you is goodbye!
Tell your mother and your sister and your brother, it's goodbye!
It's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's goodbye!
Nobody cry, it's goodbye!
Crash, crash, crash, crash, goodbye!

- Pink Floyd -