Turn me loose

from your hands.

Let me fly

to dis tant (Eb)lands,

o ver green fields,

trees and (Ab)moun tains,

(Eb)flow ers

and for est foun tains.

(Ab)Home a long the lanes of the (Eb)sky way,

for this dark

and lone ly room

pro jects a shad

ow cast in (Eb)gloom.

And my eyes are (F)mir rors

of the world out side,

think ing of the way (Bb)that the wind can (Eb)turn the tide.

And these (Ab)shad ows turn from (Bb)pur ple in to gray

for just this sky line pi geon dream ing of the o pen, (Eb)wait ing for the day that he can (Ab)spread his (Ab)wings and (Bb)fly a way a gain.

Fly a (Cm)way,

(D)sky line (D)pi geon, fly

to wards the dreams you left so (Bb)ver y far be (Eb)hind.

Fly a (Cm)way,

(D)sky line pi geon, fly

to wards the dreams you left so (Bb)ver y far be (Eb)hind.

Let me wake up in the morn ing to the (Bb)smell of new mown hay, to laugh and cry, to live and die in the bright ness of my day.

I wan na (F)hear the peal ing bells of dis tant church es sing,

but most of all, please free me from this ach ing (Eb)met al ring.

And you’ve left so (Eb)ver y, so ver

y far

be (Eb)hind.