I'm running over,
and falling ‘round and ‘round.
I'm falling to the sky,
and jumping to the ground.
So get your feet out of the clouds.
We're going ‘round and ‘round,
and the years are turning with the leaves.
I'm falling up and down,
and the poet takes his leave.
Ever wonder how the piper's tune
can never sound the same?
You know there's nothing left to lose,
but not much to gain.
We're standing in one place
while the rest of the world turns.
We're falling into space
as the world around us burns.
I'm running over,
and falling ‘round and ‘round.
I'm falling to the sky,
and jumping to the ground.
So get your feet out of the clouds.
