(Jim Hughes)

Perpetual motion machine, it came to me in a
dream

Let's catch some air, that's if you dare

I'm only sixteen but you're my queen

It's a bright, bright morning, the road stretches
far

The corn on the right, the wheat on the left

There's a hill up ahead, let's catch some air

Perpetual motion machine, I picked up a magazine

Poor aimless, poor aimless, poor aimless me

Aimlessly

Now look at the fireball extinguish the sun

My daddy would perish if only he knew

Hundred and forty, air feeds the fire