It's night in the city, eleven P.M,
but nobody seems to notice or care.
The cars just keep on moving and
the voices still seem to be coming
from everywhere.

Tonight is different though, 
he has something else on his mind
Tonight, if only briefly he plans, 
as he locks his door, to go on
a little journey and leave it all behind.

Nods at the kid with the pit bull, 
smiles at the pretty chick with the braids.
A door slams, a frustrated curse,
"goddamn these fucking dog days".

Unfazed by these his neigbours, focused, 
polite and somewhat aloof,
slowly but surely he makes his way 
upwards to the building roof.

It's magnificent, the city from up here, 
but that's not why he came.
Couldn't care less about the bright lights, 
the money, the people, power or fame.

He takes a deep breath and raises
his head towards the sky,
It's not the same as the island, 
the view sucks, but what he wants
to see this night is mostly in his minds eye.

The harsh glow of the suns off to his right,
as the ship banks and turns, 
powering down as they prepare
for the final approach home.

Standing next to his mother and sister,
among the celebrating crew, 
another successfull mission, 
his pulse quickens as the "power" surges
and he savors that indescribable
feeling that cuts you to the bone.

It's been many years since the ships have flown, 
how he longs for those days.
The throes of battle, feeding alongside ayndria, 
bodies flying everywhere, that pathetic look on
their faces, as you "lock" and feed,
giddy with power, revelling in their fear, 
lords of galaexy, ruthless,
masters of the "haze" 

The honk of a horn and screeching tires 
jolts him back to reality.
Millions of miles from home, 
a nodescript refugee in New York City.

Away from his ship and his crew, 
a lonely warrior prince in training,
longing for the glory days and relief 
from the endless waiting.

A final glance skyward and he
reluctantly begins his descent.
The building is quiet now, he's tired, as he 
prepares to end another day.

He doesn't believe, he knows he can fly. 
Someday soon, maybe night,
maybe day, the ships will return 
and "they" will sail away