I am afraid of bridges, sometimes I have to turn around
When I’m driving towards one, my heart begins to pound
Last night at the bridge to Johnsburg, I swerved down a dead-end street
I sat there shaking in an empty lot full of broken glass and weeds
Then past me in the darkness
Ran four wild dogs
Leaping over abandoned tires
High into the air
In the air, in the air
Someday I will live in the air
In the air, in the air
Someday I will live in the air
Once I loved a girl named Joan whose skin smelled just like falling snow
One day she drove us off the road into a dead field of corn
She laughed and hit the gas as we bounced along the rows
But I held onto the dashboard with my eyes tightly closed
Those wild dogs brought back
That smell of falling snow
And the girl who lives in Johnsburg
Across the bridge I cannot go
In the air, in the air
Someday I will live in the air
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