When I grow up I want to be an airline pilot When I get old I want to be an airplane pilot Yes, you can share that dream If you can make it seem Like ice in the springtime, a merry-go-round going round the wrong way
Hay when the sun shines Hay when the sun shines Hay when the sun shines Hay when the sun, sun shines
Now it's all politics Yes, it's all lunatics Nice people, nice suits and ties Filling us with wonderful lies Listen son, I know you know what's good So vote for me as all good boys would Can't you see I promise you the world And now you only get to see it
(chorus)
Why should I want to leave here Give me just one good reason I can almost count on fingers All the young people left here I'm off to find fame and fortune And a handful of self-respect too So I follow in the footsteps To the pace of prodigal son