"Put your head on straight
I told you I can hardly wait
I couldn't hesitate
We're gonna be fine
Now hang up the telephone line"
I am Chicago bound
In an airport bus I'm found
I'm not messin' around
But I'm over my head
I'll think of you instead
I must be headed east
While I eat my airplane feast
In the aluminum beast
Up in the sky
I have hours to wonder why
I breathe the London air
I'm on the ground but I'm not there
I am glued to my chair
I'll write you a song
Far from where I belong
Stamp my passport some more
I'm on a train to your Tramore
I'm on another shore
I'm a little tired
But I'm walking up to your door
I'm a little tired
But I'm knocking on your door
I'm a little tired
But I'm walking through your door