Airplanes - Jam in the Van, Balto

As a child I looked at airplanes

Learned all their technical names

I never could guess what they’d do

And I spent my youth waiting in airports

Convinced of a purpose

I’m lit up, I’m love, I’m a man

And I’ve rented rooms that change with the seasons

I forget the reasons

The bottom falls out, I’m alone

I hid in the corner, the tanks on parade down below

Looking back homewards, shedding old tears for you

But can I stay with you just for a little while

Been trouble all behind

And lying here beside you

Hell I want to get it right this time

When I make it home I’ll hand out key-chains

And souvenir ashtrays

But I’ll save the full story for you

When I make it home, get a house like my brothers'

And be a good husband

All simple and static and whole

I’ll probably be older, when the fever burns out of my mind

But I gotta tell you, I’m lit-up, I’m filled up and trying