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Текст (слова) песни: Jethro Tull - Aeroplane

Flying, made of sticks and paper.

My 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

 

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