From a thousand feet up,
Things seem to change,
From green,
Brown,
And beige,
To white,
Black,
And grey.

A landscape that always seems to change,
Not from day to day,
But from sway to sway,
As the aircraft works it way,
To an imaginary spot,
Where it starts to decay.

Through the white,
Black,
And grey,
To approach the ground,
Of green,
Brown,
And beige.