(jim hughes)

Perpetual motion machine, it came to me in a dream
Lets catch some air, thats if you dare
Im only sixteen but youre my queen
Its a bright, bright morning, the road stretches far
The corn on the right, the wheat on the left
Theres a hill up ahead, lets catch some air

Perpetual motion machine, I picked up a magazine
Poor aimless, poor aimless, poor aimless me
Aimlessly
Now look at the fireball extinguish the sun
My daddy would perish if only he knew
Hundred and forty, air feeds the fire

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