The Commander Thinks Aloud کے بول

Boys and girls in cars Dogs and birds on lawns From here I can touch the Sun Put your jackets on I feel we’re being born The tropic of Capricorn is below We stall above the pole Still your face is young As we feel our weight return A trail of shooting stars The horses call the storm Because the air contains the charge The radio is on And Houston knows the score Can you feel it we’re almost home The crew compartment’s breaking up The crew compartment’s breaking up The crew compartment’s breaking up The crew compartment’s breaking up This is all I wanted to bring home to you The crew compartment’s breaking up The crew compartment’s breaking up The crew compartment’s breaking up