the aviator

bir deep purple sarkisi

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 id had the strength
i couldnt 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
theres plenty more
where that came from

im tired of the bombs
im tired of the bullets
im tired of the crazies on tv
im the aviator
a dreams 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

im tired of the news
im tired of the weather
im tired of the same thing every day
im the aviator
a dreams a dream whatever they say