To the Airport

Here's a song For the good folks who We pay to look for bombs In each other's boots Sure this line is long It's longer than my fuse But you're just doing your job And what a job you're doing Look at us trying to move For the put-upon Bearers of bad news Now and forever caught here Between us and our due Platinums golds and silvers Singing the Delta blues You see how far we've gone together Yet you still refuse me The seat you know I want And just forgot to choose I guess you're doing your job But what a job to do Look at us trying to move Look at us trying to move To move through this world like it's our world To move through this world like it's our world And for the mom Running stoically through Each kid-unfriendly gauntlet Doing the work of two When the boarding process Drops her off next to A childless man of business Whose cares are few Enough to voice his problems with Her toddler on fumes I heard her tell him off like Who the hell are you To assess this job That you could never do Just put your headphones on, man Then away we flew Look at us trying to move Look at us trying to move To move through this world like it's our world To move through this world like it's our world