Late Home Tonight, Pt. I

Standing at the window
A farmer's wife in Oxfordshire
Glances at the clock, it's nearly time for tea
She doesn't see the phantom in the hedgerow dip its wings
Doesn't hear the engine sing

But in the cockpit's techno glow behind the Ray Ban shine
The kid from Cleveland, in the comfort of routine
Scans his dials and smiles
Secure in the beauty of military life

There is no right, no wrong
Only tin cans and cordite and white cliffs and blue skies and flight
Flight, flight
The beauty of military life
No questions, only orders and flight
Only flight

What a beautiful sight in his wild blue dream
The eternal child leafs through his war magazine
And his kind Uncle Sam feeds ten trillion in change
Into the total entertainment combat video game

And up here in the stands, the fans are goin' wild
The cheerleaders flip when you wiggle your hip
And we all like the bit when you take the jeans from the refrigerator
And then the bad guy gets hit

And were you struck by the satisfying way the swimsuit sticks to her skin
Like bb gun days, when knives pierce autumn leaves
But that's okay, see the children bleed
It'll look great on the TV

And in Tripoli
Another ordinary wife
Stares at the dripping tap her old man hadn't time to fix
Too busy mixing politics and rhythm in the street below