Airports

Three years is a long, long time to fly standby
And pillow-talk from a cellular phone isn’t healthy--
Neither am I…
I read your reply, from the hand scribbled rose
To your heart-felt goodbye…
So please, destroy the letters you saved
With the flowers I sent to you
Pressed between pages of lies
Your scrapbook is open for service
So please be a sweetheart
And see that our pages are white
One thing is certain:
The sun will rise, and I’ll keep flying
I fold my arms, stare to the ceiling and wonder:
How is the weather there?
I read your reply, from the hand scribbled rose
To your heart-felt goodbye…
I read your reply
And I fail to believe that your words don’t decieve me…
So please, destroy the letters you saved
With the flowers I sent to you
Pressed between pages of lies
Your scrapbook is open for service
So please be a sweetheart
And see that our pages are white
Airports (airports) aren’t the way they once were (aren't the way they once
were);
No more waiting through tall windows for her return…
I’ll turn up, I’ll turn up
I’ll turn up the sound of loneliness…
So please, destroy the letters you saved
With the flowers I sent to you
Pressed between pages of lies
Your scrapbook is open for service
So please be a sweetheart
And see that our pages--
So please, destroy the letters you saved
With the flowers I sent to you
Pressed between pages of lies
Your scrapbook is open for service
So please be a sweetheart
And see that our pages are white