Up here with the birds and the angels and the bombs
Eighty-nine missions and I ain’t twenty-one
Thinking of my mother and the girl I left behind
Come on silver darling, we were born to fly
Yeah we were born to fly
...On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair. Warm smell of colitas rising up through the air.
Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering light.
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim I had to stop for the night ...