Bowling along the street like an empty carton

Mouthing words to music no-one else can hear

Rolling in the gutter like a stolen hubcab

The force field means no-one will come near



I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got my head in the clouds

And my feet on the ground

I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got a right to fly



Try and engage some conversation

But people's teeth grind and hackles rise

And then they get that glazed look in their eyes

They press a tarnished coin into my greasy mitt

My clothes catch the rain, the sun, the sweat



I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got my head in the clouds

And my feet on the ground

I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got a right to fly



One last soldier behind a shield of offense

People attacking with curled lips and glances

Mind grows propellers and pilots

And retro-rockets taking off to where the alley wind dances



I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got my head in the clouds

And my feet on the ground

I've got a right to fly

And you're wrong to bring me down

I've got a right to fly



You're wrong

You're so wrong