They're not called terminals for nothing   Maybe that's why I feel sick   It could be from insomnia   But I'm not tired, that's not it   There's just something sad in learning how to fly      It's just the pilot's have a smugness   Not knowing if they're sending   Someone home from an adventure   Is just sponsoring an ending   And going is just leaving somebody behind      I've been watching too many movies   And I haven't figured out   There's no one waiting out in Newark   To come bursting through the clouds   To sweep me off my feet      Maybe I'm too young to understand it   I hope I get it when I'm older   I thought I discovered romance   But then I looked over my shoulder   There was no one running after me      No funny coloured hair   Just the taste and smell of tired air   And the willingness to look forward and say   I've got no reason to stay, anyway