Jetlag
Rode in the grip of an angel Hands tied in cords of gold We'd made a deal, I went astray Now I'm falling with hell to pay
Rode in the grip of an angel Occupied with thoughts of gold I learned a dance on the head of a pin It didn't save me from eternal sin
C Now I'm learning to fly by myself Stealing my grain from the mouths of birds Touch ground for an occasional birdbath Crap on the heads of passers-by
"Fairy Land doesn't last forever. Making fun of my moping around and being A pain in the arse, etc., etc. Another one of these flying songs. We've Actually dropped the lyrics on later versions. They're a bit obvious, Y'know."
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