Bowling along the street like an empty carton Mouthing words to music no-one else can hear Rolling in the gutter like a stolen hubcab The force field means no-one will come near
I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got my head in the clouds And my feet on the ground I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got a right to fly
Try and engage some conversation But people's teeth grind and hackles rise And then they get that glazed look in their eyes They press a tarnished coin into my greasy mitt My clothes catch the rain, the sun, the sweat
I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got my head in the clouds And my feet on the ground I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got a right to fly
One last soldier behind a shield of offense People attacking with curled lips and glances Mind grows propellers and pilots And retro-rockets taking off to where the alley wind dances
I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got my head in the clouds And my feet on the ground I've got a right to fly And you're wrong to bring me down I've got a right to fly
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