Journey of the Featherless-Cloud Cult

Got myself a mission I'm going to find heaven I made cray-paper wings I think they'll carry me a while I left you a love poem The best I have written My favorite words Were the ones I couldn't spell They say that I'm a lunatic They say that I am full of it I say that it's worth dreamin' Just for the dream of it It's all about passion It's all about perception Don't call me on my cell phone 'Cause there ain't no reception When I'm gone When I'm gone I think I'm growing feathers But I'm not quite sure of it 'Cause I started getting dizzy About a Hundred feet up I made friends with the clouds I made friends with the birds If you ask a goose a question He never shuts up And honestly I miss you And I hope that you're missing me Cause I could use your lips on me And a little bit of dramamine For the moment I can see Way better than I've ever seen Don't sell my stuff on eBay Cause I might need it back before I'm gone Before I'm gone I'm not the kind of man Who's into looking downwards I've drank my share of pity From the bartender's cup So many people Wonderin' "What's the right direction?" As far as I'm concerned There's only one way up And my fingers, they are blisters And my eyes, they are bullet holes But my hearts still beating Guess I'm pretty lucky Pretty lucky Pretty lucky (When I'm gone)