Could we try try bicycles coming from the sky?

My angel's head is drooping tuck my arms into my sides I listened for you now higher still break through the atmostphere and my voice is the sea hands are the heavens and my voice is the sea

Turn you into a bobsled

I'm a popsicle stick

Drags you 'cross the desert wagon

Cut out from a tree

Soon soon all we'll do is blow blow around into the sound sound of my cloting on the chair lift me up into the air is something traceable I traced it with my finger on the kindergarten notepad with a voice from the sea

Turn you into a bobsled I'm a popsicle stick drga you 'cross the desert wagon cut out from a tree

Meet you under the car tonight we'll make ourselves round round and round we'll go just like the earth and the wheels wheels of the clock keep ticking time time is a circle tim is a wheel everything comes back again just keeps happening never ends and if it ends it just starts againa nd again bury me under the sand pull my feet 'til they come off put them in the sky we tried to tell you here we are the pavement turns us into traffic signals maps of the world fold us up and put us in the glove compartment love department I miss the time when this made sense I miss the time when we were traveling traveling to Africa together in the fall the fall of man was in the springtime and I miss the time when you and I were hiking in the mountains and we took ourselves to try everyone tries it's my I turn to the sea and the sky I turn to the ocean the sea see

Cut out from a tree