When I leave here
Iíll be a million miles and counting
Ive been perfecting the mix
2 parts rocket fuel, 3part bitterness
1 part lonliness, and 1 part dispair.
Ive looked for a reason to stay
Pretended there was one all along
but Iíve outgrown this place called home
The count down started in 1983.
The wheathers perfect.
Climb into my suit
Iíve got enough velocity to escape.