I fly up high
But I am not a spy
Although I see and cry
Through my troubled eye
Within the cloudy cover
I am flying over
Your distant foreign land
Watching seas or desert sand
I am a plane you see
It is now plain for me
Gazing at this troubled earth
To wonder what it is really worth
Armies fighting for another oil
\Black gold runs from the desert soil\
Sometimes i wonder if the Presidents could
Cover this oil with crimson blood
I want to fly forever
But it wasn,t really planned
I,m so scared and now i never
Really want to land
Plane to see by D. Green and Mickelson
© Copyright: Антонина Тесленко, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102121000487
Свидетельство о публикации №102121000487
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