| I cannot be where the weather is fair |
| With you on the ground — me in the air |
| Where whistling engines drink up restless hearts |
| I can still taste the last call — I still feel the bar |
| The plotting of managers in fast open cars |
| Racing the agents — chasing the ancients |
| To the corner stores — to pick out our potions |
| I, like the others, believe we were born |
| To bleed at the borders to sleep with the storm |
| I must confess I have laid down |
| Where stronger men dared not go But I miss you — I miss you |
| There is nothing I can take |
| There is nothing I can do To keep from running away |
| I know of what I’ve lost |
| On this quiet night |
| I still felt your grasp upon me As I boarded the flight |
| And I watched you there in the window |
| I wondered how long you’d stay |
| Waving your arms at the jumbo |
| As it tore us both away |
| I wish I could just turn myself around |
| Follow my heart back to you on the ground |
| But I know just for tonight |
| Is harder to hear than goodbye |
| But I miss you — I miss you |
| There is nothing I can take |
| There is nothing I can do To keep from running away |
| At any cost |
| To keep from turning around |
| Just to see what I’ve lost |