Just a small town kitty with a map of the city and not much else to claim… picked up a one way ticket outta here… to find fortune and fame

Well… i don’t know much about livin’ high… never had too much at all… so i really admire that girl who left here… to find fortune and fame.

With a tear in her beer… she tried to explain… how she tried and tried but did not live up to her name… and the deacons… the merchants… the coffee shop congress agreed… that she couldn’t have picked a better time to break free.

One flew over…
To see what she could see…
One flew over… only…
To discover the things you gotta trade… for the dream.

Aren’t we the lucky ones?

Well… there’s a feeling around here… echos of sadness… i can’t seem to trace. One more time at the wishin’ well… a lonely… lovely place.

Well… it seems the American Dream… only boats against the tide… driftin’ shiftin’… always outta reach… like pin-lights cross the great divide.

A public socialite she had come to be… not a soul saw her off… save for me… and the fakers the takers… the singles bar congress agreed… that she couldn’t have picked a better time to leave.

One flew over…
To see what she could see…
One flew over… only…
To discover the things you gotta trade…
The things you gotta trade… for the dream.

Aren’t we the lucky ones?