In his imagination
he’s flying high
His thoughts are wings
taking him up
into the sky
In his imagination
he’s anywhere
When he floats back down to earth
he doesn’t want to live there

Tonight he’s working the midnight shift
arriving at ten
learning how slowly 12 can turn
into 7 am

He’s up to his eyes
in stuff he’ll despise
the same as every weekday
But inside his head
he’s easily led
and in his imagination
he’s flying away
In his imagination
he’s flying away
In his imagination

He tells me his mother says
he should be glad to be employed
unlike so many young folk today
but he’s not exactly overjoyed

He’s up to his eyes
in stuff he’ll despise
the same as every weekday
But inside his head
he’s easily led
and in his imagination
he’s flying away
In his imagination
he’s flying away
In his imagination

Monday evening
I see he’s back with a smile on his face
Says he’s had a call from London
and been offered a place
He’s leaving next week
the future’s not bleak
he’s going to be an artist
He’s got an idea
could be a career
He knows he’s one of the smartest

Flying away
through his imagination
He’s flying away
in his imagination
He’s flying away
In his imagination
He’s flying away
in his imagination