Friendly Fires - Section 25

Flying so high

Flying so high

You can hear them

You can see them

They’re on their wave

They’re on their wave

Over to you

No one can escape

This kind of war

Forty thousand feet

Above the floor

And the little children

Have nowhere to run

They don’t even know what’s going on

Flying so high

Flying so high

You can hear them

You can see them

They’re on their wave

They’re on their wave

Over to you