Point Me At The Sky

Hey, Jean

This is Henry McClean

And I've finished my beautiful flying machine

And I'm ringing to say

That I'm leaving and maybe

You'd like to fly with me

And hide with me, baby



Isn't it strange

How little we change

Isn't it sad we're insane

Playing the games that we know end in tears

The games we've been playing

For thousands and thousands and thousands



Pointing to this cosmic glider

"Pull this plastic glider higher

And light the fuse and stand well back"

He cried, "This is my last good-bye."



Point me at the sky and let it fly

(Point me at the sky and let it fly)

Point me at the sky and let it fly

(Point me at the sky and let it fly)

Point me at the sky and let it fly



And if you survive till two thousand and five

I hope you're exceedingly thin

For if you are stout you will have to breathe out

While the people around you breathe in

Breathe in, breathe in, breathe in



People pressing on my sides is

Something that I hate and so is

Sitting down to eat with only

Little capsules on my plate



Point me at the sky and let it fly

(Point me at the sky and let it fly)

Point me at the sky and let it fly

(Poin me at the sky and let it fly)

Point me at the sky and let it fly



And all we've got to say to you is good-bye

It's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's good-bye

Nobody cry, it's good-bye

Crash, crash, crash, crash, good-bye...