Yes, Flight Making sense of sense As the joke straps against her back Like a 'B' cup on a  'C' cup frame. Yes, Looking about the glances As the gales go on with their glares. Me, I'm just walkin' about the patches Givin' lint when I have it And laughin' at a grove of birds When they fly overhead Engulfing every bit of white noise, Train whistles, Background sound of noises not necessarily noise ..  In the necessary nomenclature Of flight. Yea baby, Flight.