Recycled Air

The Postal Service I recently returned from Costa Rica and this song has been heavy on my mind. Unfortunately I didn't have my iPod at the time to listen to it during flight, but I definitely felt the grasp of it's meaning as I was traveling thousands of feet above Central America. This song reminds me of the gut wrenching feeling of lifting off from the ground, which is a feeling that never seems to go away. I am reminded of the gasp of air and clutching of the hands on the armrests as the airplane turns on its jets and speeds off of the runway. I also got a very good sense of my head inflating like a balloon on the way back from our trip as we descended to the ground. My ears wouldn't equalize and I become dizzy trying to blow air out the sides of my head. I became rather scared that I might pass out, but I was fortunately saved by a delicious yawn that left my ears open and free. The chorus at the end of this song is beautiful in that it describes perfectly how the lay of the land looks from those in the sky. The ground looks like a sweater my great aunt may have knit me some years ago, and I love the way the artist refers to the ocean cradling it in it's arms. As you ascend into the clouds and skies above, you can really sit back and think about all of the accomplishments mankind has made to allow us to see things from a point of view we would never have been able to see before. This was my thought as my cares were gently swept away as I flew to the sky, and beyond. . .

Lyrics I take a breath And pull the air in until there's nothing left I'm feeling green Like teenage lovers between the sheets Ba ba ba ba . . . Knuckles clenched to white As the landing gear retract for flight My head's a balloon Inflating with the altitude Ba ba ba ba . . . I watch the patchwork farms Slow fade into the ocean's arms And from here they can't see me stare The stale taste of recycled air I watch the patchwork farms Slow fade into the ocean's arms Calm down, release your cares The stale taste of recycled air