Airplanes

I grew up where throwing rocks in canyons is not allowed
I grew up where growing up makes me awkward and proud
I grew up where it was a difficult drive to the airport
And I hope you have a good ride 'cause my mother, you know
She doesn't like to fly

I grew up where it was a difficult drive to the airport
But I grew up
School, school, swimming pool
I walk barefoot home from school
School, school

And mother, that's a hard word, the things that you're leaving
The things that you're missing, the things you don't know
And father, that's a hard word, the things that you're needing
The things that you're missing, the things you don't show

How happy do you have to be to be happy?
How sad do you have to be to be sad?
And do you have to be sad?
Do you have to be?

I grew up where throwing rocks in canyons is not allowed



Credits
Writer(s): Lisa A. Loeb
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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