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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Way Far Gone

Take me away
Ye big metal flying beast
As the sun sets in the west
We fly on dead east

Trailing black smoke
And contrails now and then
Till we meet that old sun
Brightening the sky again

Fly on we will
Defying gravity with all our might
Our past far behind us
We're clean outta sight

With eyes to the future
There'll be nary a frown
As the gas runs out
And our wheels touch down

Rolling to the gate
In this new far off place
With the kiss of fresh air
Upon our fair face