It’s a wide sky to fly out on your own here,
Kinda lonesome in a lovely sort of languid, lithesome way,
Like distance is no object on a clear day
And wings are happy just to flap away.
It’s a long time I’ve travelled on this journey,
Kinda ages since I roosted for a rest,
Like someone’s moved the landmarks without warning
But I’m happy doing what I do the best.
It’s the flight, you see, that really is the main part,
Kinda shooting breeze and riding currents fair,
Like flying without falling is my skill set
And nothing in this world can quite compare.
It’s the way I am, you know, I’m off the wire,
Kinda restless when I have to stay too still,
Like motion is my purpose and my meaning,
It’s a gift of wings and head for heights that thrill.
scottishmomus 