artikulation .fa3

Eleven hours,
In the sky,
Is such a boring,
Waste of time,
From taking off,
To touching down,
There's nought to do,
But sit around,
Yeah I could read,
But still I'd know,
I'm stuck in here,
Till I get home,
Or I could watch,
The TV screens,
But one films crap,
The other I've seen,
The food is shit,
Can't even smoke,
The radio's,
An audible joke,
My legs ain't long,
But still can't find,
The space to rest,
Relax, unwind,
I feel so trapped,
And so pegged in,
What should I do?
Where to begin?
It seems that drink's,
The way to cope,
And getting drunk's,
My only hope,
Of ever getting,
Off to sleep,
Without the need,
For counting sheep,
So I will try,
With all my might,
To drink my way,
Right through this flight,
For that's the only,
Way to be,
At thirty-five,
Thousand feet.