Hey, Eugene,This is Henry McCleanAnd I've finished my beautiful flying machineAnd I'm ringing to sayThat I'm leavin
g and maybeYou'd like to fly with meAnd hide with me, babyIsn't it strangeHow little we changeIsn't it sad we're insaneP
laying the games that we know and in tearsThe games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and ....Pointing to the c
osmic glider'Pull this plastic glider higherLight the fuse and stand right back'He cried 'This is my last good-bye.'Point
me at the sky and tell it flyPoint me at the sky and tell it flyPoint me at the sky and tell it flyAnd if you survive till
two thousand and fiveI hope you're exceedingly thinFor if you are stout you will have to breathe outWhile the people around
you breathe inPeople pressing on might sayIt's something that I hate to sayI'm slipping down to eat the groundA little ref
uge on my brainPoint me at the sky and tell it flyPoint me at the sky and tell it flyPoint me at the sky and tell it flyA
nd all we've got to say to you is good-byeIt's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's good-byeNobody cry, it's good-b
yeCrash, crash, crash, crash, good-bye...