That evening, silent noise. Too much thinking.
Built a surfboard and headed out to sea.
It was gone the following morning.
If I hadn’t lost my mind, I think it’d be by my side.
Disconnected. In the sky.
Heard it in the songs that had been sent.
As Apollo said, whatever I do.
You’ve already done it all and I’m still here.
The sun’s always up there, somewhere.
That morning, leaving feeling crazy.
Brought a surfboard and walked right out to see
what else was breathing that evening.
If I hadn’t learned to fly, I think it’d be my side.
Disconnected. Up so high.
Remember that goodbye?
It was in the songs that had been sent.
It was in the time that had been spent.
As Apollo said, whatever I do.
Like I always said, I listen to you.
You’ve been gone, done it all and I’m still here.
Just walked back from it all and you’re not near.
The sun always hides, somewhere.
It’ll come. Time, it’s always cared.
Whatever I do,
take my wings and soar on back to you.
Control the sky.
Songs you sang, no written goodbyes.
One day do what hasn’t been done yet.
No more thinking like 9th and Lafayette.
I was so low and I was so high.
And we fell so hard, but we touched the sky.
Feathers burn, fall down, be a friend.
Hope that you’re flying again.
Saved a life and disappeared.
I’m not there, but always here.
this is your life chuck johnson 