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Stratford-on-guy

I was flying into Chicago at night

Watching the lake turn the sky into blue-green smoke

The sun was setting to the left of the plane

And the cabin was filled with an unearthly glow

In 27-D, I was behind the wing

Watching landscape roll out like credits on a screen



The earth looked like it was lit from within

Like a poorly assembled electrical ball

As we moved out of the farmlands into the grid

The plan of a city was all that you saw

And all of these people sitting totally still

As the ground raced beneath them, thirty-thousand feet down



It took an hour, maybe a day

But once I really listened the noise just fell away



And I was pretending that I was in a Galaxie 500 video

The stewardess came back and checked on my drink

In the last strings of sunlight, a Brigitte Bardot

As I had on my headphones

Along with those eyes that you get

When your circumstance is movie-size



It took an hour, maybe a day

But once I really listened the noise just fell away



It took an hour, maybe a day

But once I really listened the noise just fell away

But once I really listened the noise just fell away

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Stratford-on-guy / Элизабет Фэа

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