Flying Machine

Just a thought if you don't really mind
I'll be dead to you all in good time
God will touch though's who are true
But when you suck out the love and replace it plastic and glue
You lose
And all in the birds will fall
Choking on the ashes of a mechanical
Love child

Use me up stick me with pins
Drain me with all that's within
Flesh wounds are all part of life
But fuck the fake surgeons who stab with there ego stained knives
In bad light

There flying machine was fueled on green
But it by-products burned off its feathers
And the natural birds whose words were never heard
Were smoked out and grounded forever