I grew up where throwing rocks in canyons is not allowed.
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I grew up where growing up makes me awkward and proud.
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I grew up were it was a difficult drive to the airport,
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And I hope you have a good ride, cause my mother, you know,
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She doesn't like to fly.
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I grew up were it was a difficult drive to the airport,
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But I grew up.
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School, school, swimming pool,
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I walk barefoot home from school.
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School, school.
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And mother, that's a hard word, the things that you're leaving,
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The things that you're missing, the things you don't know.
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And father, that's a hard word, the things that you're needing,
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The things that you're missing, the things that don't show.
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How happy do you have to be to be happy?
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How sad do you have to be to be sad?
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Do you have to be sad?
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Do you have to be?
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Airplanes
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| Lisa Loeb |
