Spit

Well, here we are, adrift again
I can taste the spit in the oxygen
The pilot's song forgotten at the yard
To feel the awful trembling hands of God

And I hope that this plane goes down
So I can see who comes to mind
So I can see who comes to mind

Yeah, I can crack a smile
And I'm all right, I'm just so tired of feeling tired
The conscious floating in and out of our cartoon
Sedated in a cheery underworld
Thoughts of leaking out
A dry and gaping mouth

And I hope that this plane goes down
So I can see who comes to mind
So I can see who comes to mind

And I hope that this plane goes down
So I can see you one last time
So I can see you one last time

And dream away
And dream away
And dream away
And dream away