That wild blue yonder, so far up above
Clear or cloudy or smudged
What I’d give to fly far into the sky
And see the world as it was
Perhaps then the fires would burn a bit smaller
And the bleak barren land would smolder no longer
The trees might grow taller
And the seas might grow smaller
Under the gaze of the sun
Maybe, perhaps, from far up above
I could see D. B. Cooper, somewhere in the pines
His parachute blooming, falling from the sky
Just maybe, just maybe, I might glimpse from on high
The grave of Malaysia, deep blue against white
A flip of the coin might show me at last
Where Australia’s lost leader was taken by chance
If I was up in that wild blue yonder,
Maybe I’d see of what cannot catch sight
A color, a sign, some word from on high
For why we still fight and why we still die
Why, I ask, why, do we all still die?
