So here we are back to Monday
And the King’s been overthrown
You weren’t alone
You’re pulling up off the runway
Find the time to get back home
Something known
But still you find some peace of mind in the simpler things
You count the stars and the passing cars
As the wind hits the wings
Faded blue (blue)
Faded blue (blue)
Faded blue (blue)
Blue, yeah
You never get much of Sundays
When you pray to silent ghosts
Don’t leave your post
Your officers line the runway
A thousand miles beyond the coast
Crisp, white coasts
But still you find some peace of mind in the simpler things
You count the stars and the bright red bars
As the waves down there sing
From the sea
Oh no, no, no, no, no
Don’t you be done with it
You were born to win
You must believe
The future’s warm again
The tide is coming in