This Aviator View

This Aviator View

Hold my hand
If you don’t feel right
I’ll look out tonight

The old men in the bandstand play
While their wives sit in reproach
Like electric neon’s blazing
While the eastside chokes
And all the girls selling paper flags
Wave their hands at the parade
While their boys with broken hearts
Take oaths their grandfathers made
To cut through this aviator view

Hold my hand
If you don’t feel right
We’ll be fine tonight

A poor response to a screaming voice
In a far flung town
And how can you feel remorse
When you can’t see the ground?
I think of girls selling paper flags
Waving hands at the parade
And old men playing instruments
On a bright summers day
And it cuts through this aviator view

Hold my hand
Cuz I don’t feel right
They’re not fine tonight