Post by onemoremile on Apr 19, 2006 10:04:04 GMT -8
Birthday Treat
She gets on the plane and takes her seat
Next to the man wearing little round glasses
And a sombre face
And she tries to talk, cheery ‘hi, how are you?’
But receives only a patronising glare.
But it doesn’t matter,
He’s just a strange man on a plane
With a sombre face
She flicks through the magazines
Eyes glazed as she reads of poverty
In a country whose name she can’t pronounce.
But reading these things makes her feel like she cares
So she can live on, happy, feeling good
And it costing only a few moments of boredom
That’s enough.
The trolley comes past, but she’s not thirsty.
The man next door asks for his Bloody Mary,
But that’s his only words,
Then back to the same endless staring
Each in their own unique worlds
A jolt and a stutter, the tanoy sparks on
For the captain’s voice, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’
Just stuttered apologies in a panic strewn voice
As the plane dips
Down, down
Some engine fault, it didn’t matter what,
The quaver in the voice was enough information
To inform them of their doom
Screams and shrieks, death on the mind,
But all she can ask, ‘where are we going’
As if anyone can really answer.
And so the sombre man speaks,
Because she needs him to, she just needs a voice of comfort.
‘We’re going… we’re going to a party,
A birthday party,
Your birthday party, won’t that be nice?’
His wine deep voice, steady and composed,
As he starts to sing, sing happy birthday.
They all hear his voice, everyone on that plane
So they start to sing, it calms them
Isn’t it harsh, she’ll die on her birthday?
And they feel sorry for her, not themselves.
The magic done, the sombre man smiles,
And she does too; she’s going to her party
And everyone’s coming with her
Singing away as the plane goes down
Joyful singing, until the last
She gets on the plane and takes her seat
Next to the man wearing little round glasses
And a sombre face
And she tries to talk, cheery ‘hi, how are you?’
But receives only a patronising glare.
But it doesn’t matter,
He’s just a strange man on a plane
With a sombre face
She flicks through the magazines
Eyes glazed as she reads of poverty
In a country whose name she can’t pronounce.
But reading these things makes her feel like she cares
So she can live on, happy, feeling good
And it costing only a few moments of boredom
That’s enough.
The trolley comes past, but she’s not thirsty.
The man next door asks for his Bloody Mary,
But that’s his only words,
Then back to the same endless staring
Each in their own unique worlds
A jolt and a stutter, the tanoy sparks on
For the captain’s voice, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’
Just stuttered apologies in a panic strewn voice
As the plane dips
Down, down
Some engine fault, it didn’t matter what,
The quaver in the voice was enough information
To inform them of their doom
Screams and shrieks, death on the mind,
But all she can ask, ‘where are we going’
As if anyone can really answer.
And so the sombre man speaks,
Because she needs him to, she just needs a voice of comfort.
‘We’re going… we’re going to a party,
A birthday party,
Your birthday party, won’t that be nice?’
His wine deep voice, steady and composed,
As he starts to sing, sing happy birthday.
They all hear his voice, everyone on that plane
So they start to sing, it calms them
Isn’t it harsh, she’ll die on her birthday?
And they feel sorry for her, not themselves.
The magic done, the sombre man smiles,
And she does too; she’s going to her party
And everyone’s coming with her
Singing away as the plane goes down
Joyful singing, until the last
