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The Promise

de The Buggles

Along the edge of this airfield
The old prop-shaft airliners stand
Altimeters reading zero
Formless memories lingering

Nights are cold on this airfield
I sit alone and watch the radar
Locked on your wavelength
Caught in the field, falling slowly

And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
Always understanding that we can fly

Along the edge of this airfield
The old prop-shaft airliners stand
Altimeters reading zero
Formless memories lingering

And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here

And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
And we can fly from here
Always understanding

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