Flying North - Thomas Dolby

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 hotel 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 streaming 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

And I’m flying north again tonight

Down with the landing gear

Up goes the useless prayer

The poles are tethers we were born in

Now I’m back in the London night

On a bench in a launderette

I’m staring right into my face

And I’m drawn out like a plot

And I’m flying north again tonight