Well, I'm flying a plane with you

And you don't know where we are

Gimme the yoke, gimme the yoke


Then I'm rowing a boat with you

And you're acting like a star:

You're the stroke, you're the stroke


You know I hate when I'm unwinding on my way home

And you call me on the phone

So at least please listen to what I need to say

Or I'll leave you alone


Well, I'm waiting here for you

Even though I've got a flu

But you won't come, you won't come


So now, all those things you do

Keep me here, nervous and blue

Still at home, still at home


Beware I just can't stand to see you cash in on me

I won't be your golden goose

So don't think you are so above me

Or I'll cut you loose


My brain is working pretty fine and I am sure I got what it takes To be what I want to become and I don't want to be stopped.

I got such great power that you could never imagine,

So I'll listen to you but then I'll find my way to the top.



lyrics by Nic Gyalson

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