You can feel these things, flying through fuzzy skies lower than you probably oughta.
You can miss her.
But maybe put them feelings away. Hard to do, but it's easier to forget.
Work hard. Get there. Fix it. Fly it.


Get back in.
Push forward that throttle.
Turn that wrench.
Sunny and grey skies go by.
Sunny and grey friends go away.
always that throttle.

She's never there.
Anymore.
Only that throttle.