Gold in the Hundred Metres Daydream

I shouldn’t be left on my own
You know it’ll only end badly
Pretend to be somebody else
Shake off my skin all too gladly

I won’t do any work
At least not any I’m paid for
Daydream like it’s a sport
I think this is what I was made for

And I’ll climb for unreachable places
Places people like me don’t get in
What use is imagination
If you can’t take it out for a spin?

Oh listen now, can you hear it?
Something from outside is calling
Saying: ‘Forget you’re not meant to have fun
Drop all the hurt you are hauling’

So ground controller, get out your signals
Today I am fixing to fly
A runway isn’t a runway
If it doesn’t lead to the sky

Oh, tether and trouble are coming
To clear the fantastical haze
But give me unreachable places
To temper the sensible days

I’ll reach for unreachable places
Till the end of the sensible days

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