Bowling along the street like an empty carton
Mouthing words to music no-one else can hear
Rolling in the gutter like a stolen hubcab
The force field means no-one will come near
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got my head in the clouds
And my feet on the ground
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got a right to fly
Try and engage some conversation
But people`s teeth grind and hackles rise
And then they get that glazed look in their eyes
They press a tarnished coin into my greasy mitt
My clothes catch the rain, the sun, the sweat
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got my head in the clouds
And my feet on the ground
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got a right to fly
One last soldier behind a shield of offense
People attacking with curled lips and glances
Mind grows propellers and pilots
And retro-rockets taking off to where the alley wind dances
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got my head in the clouds
And my feet on the ground
I`ve got a right to fly
And you`re wrong to bring me down
I`ve got a right to fly