When I grow up I want to be an airline pilot
When I get old I want to be an airplane pilot
Yes, you can share that dream
If you can make it seem
Like ice in the springtime, a merry-go-round going round the wrong way
Hay when the sun shines
Hay when the sun shines
Hay when the sun shines
Hay when the sun, sun shines
Now it's all politics
Yes, it's all lunatics
Nice people, nice suits and ties
Filling us with wonderful lies
Listen son, I know you know what's good
So vote for me as all good boys would
Can't you see I promise you the world
And now you only get to see it
(chorus)
Why should I want to leave here
Give me just one good reason
I can almost count on fingers
All the young people left here
I'm off to find fame and fortune
And a handful of self-respect too
So I follow in the footsteps
To the pace of prodigal son