I look straight in the window, try not to look below
Pretend I'm not up here, try counting sheep
But the sheep seem to shower off this office tower
It's nine-point-eight straight down I can't stop my knees

I wish I could fly
From this building
From this wall
And if I should try
Would you catch me If I fall?

My hands clench the squeegee, my secular rosary
Hang on to your wallet, hang on to your rings
Cant look below me or something might throw me
Curse at the wind storms that October brings

I look [straight] in the boardroom; a modern pharoh's tomb
I'd gladly swap places, if they care to dive
They're lined up at the window, peer down into limbo
They're frightened of jumping, in case they survive

I wish I could step from this scaffold
Onto soft green pastures, shopping
malls, or bed
Then with my family and my pastor and my
grandfather whose
Dead

I look straight in the mirror, watch it come clearer
I look like a painter, behind all the grease
But paintings creating, and I'm just erasing
A crystal-clear canvas is my masterpiece

I wish I could fly
From this building
From this wall
And if I should try
Would you catch me
If I fall
I wish I could fly
from this building
From this wall
and if I should try
Would you catch me if I fall?

[When I fall
When I fall
When I fall
When I fall
When I¦..hmmm..mmmm.]