20 Years Of Jethro Tull album
Flying made of sticks and paper aeroplane.
Dying is the wind but climbing my aeroplane.
Blowing, and going somewhere high
in the evening tumbling down
but it's surely been up there.
Crying want to live my life as my aeroplane
Sighing in the sun's eye, but softly my aeroplane.
Lonely, but only till it comes down
where there's people running round.
But it's surely been up there.
Flying my aeroplane.

