Purple simon moves the pink harum
Picnic, a breath of fresh air
Soundtrack from the film ZABRISKIE POINT
Hey Gone, this is Henry Maclean
And I finished my beutiful flying mashine
And I'm ringing to say that I'm leaving and maybe
You'd like to fly with me and hide with me, baby
Isn't it strange how little we changed
Isn't it we're insane
Playing the games that we know end in tears
The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands
Point me to this comic flight
And throw away the plastic coloured eye
I'd like to use the static miles that we fly
This is my last summarize
Point me in the sky and let me fly
And if you survive till two thousant and five
I hope you're exceedingly thin
For if you are stout you will have to breath out
While the people around you breathe in, breathe in
People blaspheme all I say
To something that I hate to say
Stooping down to eat the air
Breathe careful that you might die, my friend
All we've got to you is goodbye
Time will die in your eye
And we fly, it's goodbye
Point me in the sky and let me fly
All is love, is all I am
A ball is all I am
I'm so new compared to you
And I am very small
Warm glow, moon bloom
Always need a little more room
Waiting here seems like years
Never seen the light of day
All around I hear strange sounds
Come gurgling in my ear
Red the light and dark the night
I feel my dawn is near
Warm glow, moon bloom
Always need a little more room
Whisper low, here I go
I will see the sunshine show
In a while I'll find the time to make the sunshine mine
In a smile I saw a single eagle in the sky
Wheeling, soaring, gliding high
On a hill there lived a man with many shining things
Shiny gold, shiny car and shiny diamond rings
Wining, dining, shining king
Now the eagle flies in clear blue skies
Drinking in the clear blue well
Back here on the ground another dealer coughs and dies
But fifty more come rolling off the floor production line
Then a man commuting like a village on the sand
In his hand a moving picture of the crumbling land
Screaming, dealing, movie man
Here we go, hold your breath to see if something blows
Close your eyes, count till ten and see the sunrise rise
Gliding high into the sky
By the holy mansion, let the guardian rise
Upon the finger of the king
On high the eagle flies, that glitter all of gold
Then wheeling a cloudy sky, he flies into the sun
Last-modified: Tue, 29 Jul 1997 08:53:20 GMT