Fly me off this roof, to the
sky where I belong, across the
humble valley, riding on a song

Where it’s only the wind that
matters, calling, calling me to
glide above the lake, sails
aloft in the blowing breeze,
watch your toes or you’ll get
tangled, high above and
down below are too close
yet far enough, far enough to
see, I see it all, it’s not an
ivory tower, it’s not a concrete
cell, it’s a springboard to the
stars, a highway to the future,
put on the breaks fast as you
can, I don’t like this road.

rjw, Spring/Summer ‘88