Grey paint peels off the wooden beam
White paper holds a heavy dream
Under the roof of the old depot
Waiting for the wind to blow
Folded tight in a paper flight
Hiding out from the blinding light
White wings wait for a sudden rush
Breaking through the morning hush
Rust on the rails of the iron track
Cold winter wind on a traveler's back
Small white scrap on a concrete floor
Waiting for an open door
Folded tight in a paper flight
Hiding out from the blinding light
White wings wait for a sudden rush
Breaking through the morning hush
Black grease stains on a dirty sleeve
A little place where the spirits leave
Crouched in the dark by the diesel smell
A tiny heaven in a metal shell
Folded tight in a paper flight
Hiding out from the blinding light
White wings wait for a sudden rush
Breaking through the morning hush
Click of the shutter, a flash in the eye
A frozen moment, a piece of the sky
Snatched from the dirt and the oil and the grime
A jagged escape from the ticking of time
The heavy train gives a sudden roar
The wind blows in through the open door
The white wing lifts from the dusty ground
Sailing high where the air is sound
Folded tight in a paper flight
Hiding out from the blinding light
White wings wait for a sudden rush
Breaking through the morning hush
Fly away now
Fly away fast Paper flight
Finally last