Hey, eugene,

This is henry mcclean

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 games that we know and in tears

The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and...

Pointing to the cosmic glider

"Pull this plastic glider higher

Light the fuse and stand right back"

He cried "this is my last good-bye."

Point me at the sky and tell it fly

Point me at the sky and tell it fly

Point me at the sky and tell 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.

People pressing on might say

It's something that I hate to say

I'm slipping down to eat the ground

A little refuge on my brain.

Point me at the sky and tell it fly

Point me at the sky and tell it fly

Point me at the sky and tell it fly.

And all we've got to say to you is good-bye

It's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's good-bye

Nobody cry, it's good-bye

Crash, crash, crash, crash, good-bye...