Mark has rattled that little bone in my head blowing strong she's right on sweet NZ runnning around getting our stuff together
Single wing that flys with out a single feather
Meeting a the paddock like perfect no drugs in me but I feel like an addict

Patches of rock that are sticking out like mange no scabe dog she's the beautiflly Paeroa range
Deer and boar they have a home on her true her top scapes then it just cuts into the blue
Also looks like a giant pushed dirt over a grave not sure if I'm fool hardy or brave

Dust is spiralling from the car like a vapour trail soon so quiet slip throught the air under a sail
At take off there is always a saftey check who wants to break and then spiral into the deck

Standing there I feel the glory of a thermal We have come to worship at our temple