paroles de chanson Flying Home - Ella Fitzgerald
We're
sitting
out
here
on
the
runway,
Waiting
for
the
plane
to
leave,
And
the
captain
says,
"There'll
be
a
short
delay,
Bear
with
me
please,"
They
gave
us
the
usual
hassle,
"You
can't
take
those
guitars
on
board,"
But
the
boys
in
the
band
just
smiled,
Heard
it
all
before,
And
as
they're
starting
to
serve
champagne,
To
the
folks
at
the
front
of
the
plane,
I
can
hear
the
engines
roaring,
we're
on
our
way,
And
we
are
flying
home,
I
feel
the
freedom
in
my
soul,
Flying
home
at
last;
Flying
home,
I've
got
the
freedom
in
my
soul,
And
it's
four
in
the
morning,
My
world
is
calling,
Speeding
through
the
universe
tonight...
The
movie
reminds
of
my
lady,
As
she
waits,
"where
are
those
guys?"
Yes
it's
nice
to
see
old
Butch
and
Sundance
in
the
sky,
And
now
the
sun
is
beginning
to
rise,
It's
like
looking
down
on
Paradise,
There's
a
ball
of
fire
that's
burning,
giving
life,
And
we
are
flying
home,
I
feel
the
freedom
in
my
soul,
Flying
home
at
last;
Flying
home,
I've
got
the
freedom
in
my
soul,
And
it's
four
in
the
morning,
My
world
is
calling,
Speeding
through
the
universe
tonight...
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