My hands hit the leaves
As I play airplane to the humming noise
Those invisible cars had run me over
Here I am again
I'm spent
Those invisible cars had run me over
For me to grow so much older
I am the flattened out boulder
I am too much of a widow
To be spent (Oh, Lord!)
If I ever had stood there for too long
Maybe they would have shooed me off
Set out my wings and spin my propellor
Become the pilot of my own choices
The head full of voices . . .
. . . And I'm spent
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
My hands hit the leaves
As I play airplane to the humming noise
Those invisible cars had run me over
Here I am again
I'm spent
Those invisible cars had run me over
For me to grow so much older
I am the flattened out boulder
I am too much of a widow
To be spent (Oh, Lord!)
If I ever had stood there for too long
Maybe they would have shooed me off
Set out my wings and spin my propellor
Become the pilot of my own choices
The head full of voices . . .
. . . And I'm spent
Freedom
