I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there's nothing left.
I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets.
Knuckles clenched to white as the landing gear retract for flight.
My head's a balloon, inflating with the altitude.
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.
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