Strong endeavors with the weather
Tether me to a thousand balloons
so I can fly.
To work up the nerve
to desert my inertia,
to churn up a force
that’ll harness not hurt ya,
I need the mind of an engineer,
I need the mind of an engineer.
Otto Lilienthal,
his artificial hills,
were conical, and beautiful,
but could kill the devil.
Leveled up against the draft,
with wings a spread
from weeks of math,
and measurements and marks were mapped,
by led, with bevel.
The trouble was to stay in tact,
his weight, it played a hefty fact,
for anything would sink like that,
even a pebble.
Even a pebble.
He was heavier, heavier, heavier, heavier
heavier-than-air.
Heavier, heavier, heavier, heavier
heavier-than-air.
Heavier, heavier, heavier, heavier
heavier-than-air.
Air….air….air….
In all honesty,
he had promised me
the adventure of the century.
Had his attempts of discovery
not ended tragically….
“Sacrifices must be made”…..