I'm running out of fuel over Leningrad
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In seven lonely hours I'll be gone.
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She just finished up her bridge to Jupiter
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I knew she would make it all along.
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They're running low on funds at the planetarium
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In seven winter months they'll have to close.
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Then Joesph swapped the gels in the west project
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So now the big bang bullet point list glows.
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Francis said to meet him near the gift shop
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And Io failed to light this afternoon
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He won't mind if I decide to fix her
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Skip the coffee cakes and pink balloons
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I'm flying slow and low over the urals
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thirty frozen minutes until I can send
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Radar called out bogeys west of ussuriysk
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And Valdimirov had found me in the end
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And they still don't see
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Cause the don't know me, I am the night mare
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With bullets all around me in the cold, sun
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and shivering in Soviets with right, there
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and sparks this goddamn dog fight is a close, one
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I'm burning across the deck into a steep, climb
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Then rollover at eighteen thousand dive, dive
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Drowned in screaming tracers when I drop, brakes
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and tail paint all the migs around me, Jesus, I
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missed those fucking Christmas trees by inches, spilled
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communists and jet fuel on the ground.
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My supersonic jet it makes no sound.
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My supersonic jet it makes no sound.
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My supersonic jet it makes no sound.
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My supersonic jet it makes no sound.
|
|
-----------------
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Bridges To Jupiter
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| Wheatus |
