The Postal Service - Recycled Air
I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there's nothing left.
I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets.
Chorus:
Ba ba ba ba
Ba ba ba ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Knuckles clenched to white as the landing gear retract for flight.
My head's a balloon, inflating with the altitude.
Chorus
I watch the patchwork farms slow fade into the ocean's arms
and from here they can't see me stare
the stale taste of recycled air.
I watch the patchwork farms slow fade into the ocean's arms.
Calm down, release your cares.
The stale taste of recycled air.