Kings County
On a plane from Reykjavik
High above the Atlantic
No real films or music
I’m an empty fallen rider broken in
A full arena of ticky tape and silver
Expelling me from there
And I’m wishing the clouds apart
I’m wishing the clouds apart
Wishing the clouds apart
I’m heading down to King’s County
First thing in the morning
To where we polished apples
Walked in the early winter
And you know I’ll be home soon
Beyond the clouds unending
Home before the weekend
To the South Pacific
I’m wishing the clouds apart
I’m wishing the clouds apart
I’m wishing the clouds apart
I went to the poetic
My dull being to find there
To shatter and awake me
From every fruitless vision
I always called you from a cloud
You wrote to me from windows
I was climbing my way out
I’m wishing the clouds apart
I’m wishing the clouds apart
I’m wishing the clouds apart