domingo, 3 de maio de 2009

I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there'snothing left
I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets
Knuckles clenched to white as the landinggear retract for flight
My head's a balloon inflating with thealtitude
I watch the patchwork farms' slow fade intothe ocean's arms
And from here they can't see me stare
The stale taste of recycled air

The Postal Service - Recycled Air

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