Good Luck Mr Gorsky

Rides his bike on a tarmac causeway

Makes him ten feet tall and drives him anywhere

Dreams of rockets and home-run heroes

Takes the brakes off on the big hills for a dare

Oh when its dark here

There's a voice that will always call you in

But you don't care

You still sleep without thinking

Best of luck Mr Gorsky all the world's waiting for you

There's a clock on the wall

And it ticks when you're small

Counting for you

Good luck Mr Gorsky all the worlds waiting for you

There's a plaque on the wall

That your wife won at school

Cleans it for you

Making holes in the tall white fences

And a hundred curtains flicker as you pass

Think that man must be ninety-seven

Built a telescope he focused on the stars

Models in boxes never look like the pictures on the front

But that's o.k.

They still fly on elastic