I work at an airport
Sometimes it's quite a bore
I meet some interesting people though
A lot of foreigners
They tell me of their journeys
And their homes in distant lands
Envy is what I feel
From behind the register where I stand
And on my shifts I daydream
In hopes of travelling one day
Morocco, Italy, Russia,
But here is where I stay
For today broke my heart
As I watched a man and wife
As he carried Americas colors
Onto a departing flight
The anguish in his eyes
As he left his crying wife alone
Left a heaviness in my heart
That night on my way home
You see, I work in an airport
And sometimes it can be a bore
But I get to come home every night
I'm not so envious anymore
