Contrails in the sky,
Don't ask me why,
But they seem to be interfering with my trip,
Just a bit.
Contrails in the sky,
Interfering with my spirit's assent,
Do you consider that decent?
On my astral flight towards the light that's so bright,
There seems to be some turbulence in the upper atmosphere,
I do fear,
Some sort-of pollution,
Interfering with my motion,
On my upward ascent,
Do you consider that decent?
And, as I try to fly,
Right through the sky,
Ugh! It hits me,
Like a ton of bricks,
Something real thick,
Stops me from flying high...er, a....
Contrails in the sky.
Contrails in the sky,
Interfering,
Don't ask why,
If you're inquisitive,
You might not...
You might not...
You might not...
Be allowed to live,
Allowed to live.