I am alone again, flying over Eastern Tennessee in my small plane.
Below are fields, fields of weeds and cows and horses.
There's nobody to save me if my engine declines to turn.
Punching through the soil of the sky,
above little houses scattered like sand.
"What the hell? This isn't an airplane, it's a cardboard box."
I can't fly this. It won't work.
I need to get out.