By Michael Quinn
I am sailing now on a fast approaching neon-lit ship
And there is no telling how hard it’s gonna hit.
All one can do is let the wind fly through their hair
And breathe in the crystal blue oceans and the velvet air.
Come with me Fly with me
Take my hand
Before we reach the Artesian land.
The captain’s calling now and it’s a time to weigh anchor
I’m thinking now I can look up to the sky and thank her
Oooo dear bessie won’t you meet me on the hill
The time is ours and smiling to us still.
Come with me
Fly with me
Take my hand
Come with me
Fly with me
Take my hand
For this first (and last) stand
Before we reach the Artesian Land
Ren Michael 