Flight

I caught a flight to New York City
Pilot was a New York cabbie
It was white knuckles all around
Passengers all broke into spontaneous applause
Once we were safely on the ground
"You have to trust the radar," you told me once
We were flying through the clouds into New Orleans
I said, "I could move east, we could be together"
You said, "That isn't what I mean"

There were always stories
You were above suspicion
You'd kiss me on thе corner just like you'd lost your mind
But therе's never enough money, enough motion, enough passion
Enough patience, enough vision, enough comfort, enough time
"I'll try to catch you" you said to me
Calling from a phonebooth with a pocketful of dimes
So I flew across the country just like I could fly
Then dropped like a rock at the New York City skyline

I thought I'd lived too long to love like this again
I thought my skin and bones had turned to leather and stone
But you gave me back my grace, you knew what it was worth
When you mirrored my attention just as if it was your own
And I flew above the city, I said, "I can't get lost this time
My veins are a street map, all roads lead to my heart"
Then I crawl out of the subway, blinking in the bright lights
At the noise and commotion, don't know where to start

If it was different there would be roses
You'd have a story and a name to love me by
And I would have a history of knowing who could love me
I'd still believe my honesty would crowd out every lie
And our children would have fine bones, fine feathered wings
When they flew too quickly, I'd cry out, "Wait
I love you," or whatever you say
When you're trying to hold on and it might be too late