The miracle of flight.

To punch a wall. In the balls.
All out, all crazy, all mad. Punching walls and kissing madly.
My feet hurt again and you are so far away.

To punch a wall to its core and to smile at this rainy day filled with bad music,
some bourbon and cold cold beers set the mood. My dark mood.
My tiny dog watches over me as I repeatedly wonder about the miracle of flight
and how I wanna be part of it. Yet again.

I wanna take part in the miracle of flight, all the way above this dirty city,
passing by traffic jams and crying children,
above all the fake couples and lonely old men,

I wanna take part in the miracle of flight and always land near your tiny bed. 

Yes, I wanna take part in the miracle of flight, 

But I'm too busy punching walls in the face.
I am.
I'm too busy missing the good old days and ugly lollipops.

I will punch this wall one more time and expect myself to take off.

I have to take part in the miracle of flight.  Yes I do.