Point me at the sky

Hey, Eugene, 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 and in tears The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and .... Pointing to the cosmic glider "Pull this plastic glider higher Light the fuse and stand right back" He cried "This is my last good-bye." Point me at the sky and tell it fly Point me at the sky and tell it fly Point me at the sky and tell 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 People pressing on might say It's something that I hate to say I'm slipping down to eat the ground A little refuge on my brain Point me at the sky and tell it fly Point me at the sky and tell it fly Point me at the sky and tell 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...