oh why, oh why
is my sky not so blue
it's covered in clouds
of graywhite-ish hue.
the air, it blows hot,
humid and sticky,
filling the atmosphere
with glickity-icky.
I wish I could fly
I wish I could glide
I'll float past these sad
sad vapors with pride
for far beyond these
there awaits real hope
where the sky's always blue
and the winds don't get icky
