Iona

She says from on high, is that the sea, you have to wonder why, if it's true, she’s as bad as me, wingtips shine like jewels, a diamond sun sears bright, she has hopes of eternity, she says she’s fine, what’s wrong with this crew, she enquires breezily, we'll sleep till noon, sailing the sky, nothing else bears scrutiny, in this cold April light, we're so glad and cool, who can expect sympathy, when we act like fools, on these long day flights, we drink for company, don’t know if we're right, but with strange reease.