Boeing 737

I was in the air when the towers came down

In a bar on the 84th floor

I bought Philippe Petit a round

And asked what his high wire was for

He said, I put one foot on the wire,

One foot straight into heaven

As the prophets entered boldly into the bar

On the Boeing 737,

Lord, on the Boeing 737

Hey little bird,

Would you be the one

To nest beneath my Gatling gun

There's nothing left I call my own

Come down and build me a home

I was in a bar when they rigged the tower

Trying to leave all my sins

The barmaid asked my order

And where my mind had been

I tried to recall the high wire

Philippe and his foot there in heaven

As the prophets entered boldly into the bar

On the Boeing 737,

Lord, on the Boeing 737

Hey little bird,

Would you be the one

To nest beneath my Gatling gun

There's nothing left I call my own

So come down and build me a home

Hey little bird,

Would you be the one

To nest beneath my Gatling gun

There's nothing left I call my own

So come down and build me a home