Point Me At The Sky

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 end in tears
The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and thousands and...
Pointing to cosmic glider
Pull this plastic glider higher
Light the fuse and stand right back
He cried
This is my last goodbye
Point me at the sky and let 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 let it fly
And all we've got to say to you is goodbye
It's time to go, better run and get your bags
It's goodbye
Nobody cry, it's goodbye
Crash, crash, crash, crash, goodbye