Floating through the ceiling; high up over the trees.
Soft panoramic view of my whole history.
The city was all buzzing on every wire and track.
Through it all I heard a voice calling me to come back.
All those birthday cards; buried out in the yard.
Casting off again.
Not knowing where to land.
Drifting in a brand new kind of blue.
Hoping that I’m only passing through.
The ache of a decade cure is overdue.
For this brand new kind of blue.