Again
=AGAIN=
(Air traffic controller’s song)
Again the watch is hurrying us.
Again we’re jogging to the bus.
It’s time – the work doesn’t like to wait.
Again we’re passing through the gate.
Again: “Hi doctor… I’m OK…”
That’s fine - the briefing… I’m not late…
They fly ahead, they cannot stay.
They all want me to clean the way.
They never mind how I’ll do that,
And each my word - is all my bet.
They climb, descend, take off and land.
They wander off, they flock in bands.
They fly ahead, they’re stuffed with crowds
And their future hides… in clouds…
Again consoles. We’re coming up.
Again: “Hallo… I’ve got… Stand up…”
It’s time – your turn to have a rest.
Again my screen is a madhouse.
Again no time to close the mouth.
That’s fine – a brake, to take a breath.
They fly ahead, they cannot stay.
They all want me to clean the way.
They never mind how I’ll do that,
And each my word - is all my bet.
They climb, descend, take off and land.
They wander off, they flock in bands.
They fly ahead, they’re stuffed with crowds
And their future hides… in clouds…
Again the hours’re flashing past.
What makes the hands rotate so fast?
It’s time - to change and say “Good by”.
Again sweet home is meeting us.
We’re proudly walking from the bus.
Still fine – no danger in the sky!
But…
They fly ahead…
(Air traffic controller’s song)
Again the watch is hurrying us.
Again we’re jogging to the bus.
It’s time – the work doesn’t like to wait.
Again we’re passing through the gate.
Again: “Hi doctor… I’m OK…”
That’s fine - the briefing… I’m not late…
They fly ahead, they cannot stay.
They all want me to clean the way.
They never mind how I’ll do that,
And each my word - is all my bet.
They climb, descend, take off and land.
They wander off, they flock in bands.
They fly ahead, they’re stuffed with crowds
And their future hides… in clouds…
Again consoles. We’re coming up.
Again: “Hallo… I’ve got… Stand up…”
It’s time – your turn to have a rest.
Again my screen is a madhouse.
Again no time to close the mouth.
That’s fine – a brake, to take a breath.
They fly ahead, they cannot stay.
They all want me to clean the way.
They never mind how I’ll do that,
And each my word - is all my bet.
They climb, descend, take off and land.
They wander off, they flock in bands.
They fly ahead, they’re stuffed with crowds
And their future hides… in clouds…
Again the hours’re flashing past.
What makes the hands rotate so fast?
It’s time - to change and say “Good by”.
Again sweet home is meeting us.
We’re proudly walking from the bus.
Still fine – no danger in the sky!
But…
They fly ahead…
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