I'm writing a song to become a warm blanket to go with you on your travels with the hopes that you hear it and feel my fingers on your forehead in comfort. I'm writing a beat to become your tapping toes as you head to the market. The cymbals crash like change in your pocket you keep to purchase postage. High as the plane can go I'll sing even higher. The Atlantic floods its shores with all my desire. And it catches all the notes and sends them gladly on their way. And this message that I sent you explains exactly what they say. The din of instruments will become the children laughing in my neighborhood. The backup vocals are only regret that I cannot go with you yet. High as the plane can go I'll sing even higher. The Atlantic floods its shores with all my desire. And it catches all the notes and sends them gladly on their way. And this message that I sent you explains exactly what they say. That I'm hoping to see you soon. It seems these moments will follow us all of our lives keep us warm on the darkest of nights, its not a love that was lost of a love that was learned a sign that we saw or a corner we turned. It's not a heavy heart that sings these songs or a critical mind rewriting its wrongs its a war torn soldier a wayword sailor writing a heartfelt letter to a long lost friend. I'm writing a song to become a warm blanket to go with you on your travels. High as the plane can go I'll sing even higher.