Icarus Over Kansas


(McKinley)
There's an astronaut missing his children tonight
sitting in his silver machinery
He's in love with the world and stunned by her size
From where he sits she looks mostly empty
From here on the ground I know how he feels
The curve of the world beneath me
seems impossibly large when I think of where you are,
how I can sing my heart out and you won't hear me
If I put my hand up and blow a kiss,
it'll never make it to you
It'll go down over Kansas like Icarus,
sink like Amelia's last SOS
I could drive to the divide
where rains run to your side or mine,
put a bottle with a note in a river running to your coast
asking you how the world got so wide
If I put my hand up and blow a kiss,
it'll never make it to you
It'll go down over Kansas like Icarus,
sink like Amelia's last SOS







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