Riding on the moonpath

in the silver of the night

The fragrance on the air

was of another time

I cried in all my innocence

you were dressed in white

and even if I'd had the strength

I couldn't move to save my life



The fear and the thrill

of the beast at the window

The shivers and the chills

on the hottest of nights

he walked right through

my open door

As I began to run, he threw

some gold upon the floor, and said

There's plenty more

where that came from



I'm tired of the bombs

I'm tired of the bullets

I'm tired of the crazies on TV

I'm the aviator

A dream's a dream whatever it seems



I flew along the lighted street

I flew above the town

I flew in ever rising cicrcles

ever further from the ground

As I begin to lose my breath

printed faxes turn a spin

A distant corner of the room

will open up and let me in



I'm tired of the news

I'm tired of the weather

I'm tired of the same thing every day

I'm the aviator

A dream's a dream whatever they say