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Flying North
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Metal bird dip wing of fire Whose airlanes comb dark Earth The poles are tethers we were born in On the brink of a whole new deal On the floor of a Pan Am bar I'm staring right into the light And I'm drawn in like a moth And I'm flying North again... Here come the men in suits Papers waving in the runway glare Lincoln steaming in the chilly air of the morning At the end of a double day At the back of an airport lounge I'm staring down into the cold And I'm worn out like a cloth


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