Aeroplane Lyrics

Flying, made of sticks and paper.
	(Aeroplane.)
Dying, is the wind not climbing?
	(My aeroplane.)
   Blowing, and going somewhere high;
   In the evening tumblin' down,
   But it's surely been up there.
Crying, want to live my life as my aeroplane

Sighing, in the [sun time, but softly?]
	(My aeroplane.)
Lonely, but only until it comes down
Where there's people running 'round.
But it's surely been up there,
Flying.
	(My aeroplane.)
	(My aeroplane.)
	(My aeroplane.)
	(My aeroplane.)