Fly, fly
I’m always saying goodbye
Sky above
To the people I love
Plane, plane
Pure pangs of pain
Up up and away
They never stay.
Terminal, terminal
What am I doing here
I’m not arriving or departing
Just waiting for my passenger to appear
It’s all cheesy, it’s all crappy
This place don’t make me happy
Outside the taxis and limos come and go
Why I can’t get out of this, I don’t know
Fly, fly
Kiss ‘em all goodbye
Sky above
Send ‘em all off with my love
Plane, plane
My meager gain
Up up and away
So I earn my pay.
Parking, parking
Most people don’t know how to drive
Long term, short term
I wait for my flight to arrive
It’s all crummy, it’s all tacky
Turnkey turkeys, hangdogs and lackeys
Gate, ramp, escalator, baggage carousel
Delicate jet fuel bouquets, what an exquisite smell
Fly, fly
The weeks are flying by
Sky above
Take me back to the ones I love
Plane, plane
I wait in vain
Up up and away
After a long delay.
Security, security
It’s where I always take my leave
All the jetways, all the runways
A few naked minutes to grieve
Ticket counters, airline logos
A new crop of farewell photos
Every time I’m seeing off my precious girls
As they jet into the atmosphere
to another part of the world
Fly, fly
I’m always saying goodbye
Sky above
To the people that I love
Plane, plane
Take off and land again
Up up and away ...
Come back to stay.
© 2023 The Hesh Inc.
I wrote this song during the period of my life that I call my "holding pattern." I had recently moved back to the East Coast from my first sojourn in Los Angeles. I missed my daughters terribly, and it seemed that most of my last views at airports was of their retreating backs as they walked down the jetways after saying goodbye to me at the end of another visit. It didn't help matters that the only work I found at the time to help me make ends meet was as a limousine driver; most of my trips were to the airport, so apart from the long hours vs insufficient pay per hours worked, the traffic and parking hassles, and the other assorted annoyances that are part of the job, I was constantly reminded of always saying goodbye to my beloved daughters. Thank G-d I got out of that racket. I always say I hate airports. This is why. Musically, this takes more than a little from Tom Waits' slow blues, "Depot, Depot." I recorded this as a piano-and-vocal-only demo in 2018 and performed it live at gigs numerous times. I currently plan to include it on A Driver's Life, a projected album about my "season in hell" as a limo driver.