Hey, eugene,   This is henry mcclean   And I've finished my beautiful flying machine   And I'm ringing to say   That I'm leaving and maybe   You'd like to fly with me   And hide with me, baby      Isn't it strange   How little we change   Isn't it sad we're insane   Playing the games that we know and in tears   The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and ....      Pointing to the cosmic glider   'pull this plastic glider higher   Light the fuse and stand right back'   He cried 'this is my last good-bye.'      Point me at the sky and tell it fly   Point me at the sky and tell it fly   Point me at the sky and tell it fly      And if you survive till two thousand and five   I hope you're exceedingly thin   For if you are stout you will have to breathe out   While the people around you breathe in      People pressing on might say   It's something that I hate to say   I'm slipping down to eat the ground   A little refuge on my brain      Point me at the sky and tell it fly   Point me at the sky and tell it fly   Point me at the sky and tell it fly      And all we've got to say to you is good-bye   It's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's good-bye   Nobody cry, it's good-bye   Crash, crash, crash, crash, good-bye...