I strapped myself in
Got ready to go
The bags were packed
The return ticket
In my pocket
But I wasn’t returning
No way
It was off to New York
With me
Probably a little cliche
For a writer to do that
But I don’t care
They say they’ve the
Finest coffee in all of the land
Out there
And enough publishers to bother
On a daily basis
So I fly on over
With the dream still
Alive
Well I’m alive
So it’d be a pity
Not to dream
First thing I’ll do
When I make it over
Is drop off my bags
And head for the first
Starbucks
Fifth Avenue should be fine
I’ll get a taste of what it’s like to be
At the top of your game
Too
A writer needs to dream
You see
Otherwise
They’re wasting their time
It’s the flight right now though
No thinking too far ahead
Get myself over there
Grab my syrup-filled coffee
And hit my new bed
There’s a woman sitting two seats from me
Who won’t stop talking
About her own dream
She dreams of being an air hostess
So this must be lovely for her
Unless of course
The plane goes down
And she dies with a frown
On her face
Dreams lost in the water below
Ah no
That won’t happen
We’ll make it over safe
Make it in on time
The Aer Lingus flights
Are always sublime
Well not sublime
But I needed the rhyme
Right there
So you get me
One more thing I ask of you
When it comes out will you please
Buy my book
Ah do

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