sky fever

I must to up to the skies again, to the white clouds and the grey,
And all I ask is a high launch, and the chance to —get away—;
And the wing—s surge, and the wind—s song, and the quiet clouds— drifting,
And a heat-haze on the land—s face, and the warm air—s lifting

I must go up to the skies again, for the call to soar and glide,
Is a free call, and a clear call, that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a sunlit day, and the bright height—s gaining,
—Neath the —new-cu— that towers above, and it's lift maintaining

I must go up to the skies again, to the peace of silent flight,
To the gull—s way, and the hawk—s way, and the free wings— delight;
And all I ask is a friendly joke with a laughing fellow rover,
And a large beer, and a deep sleep, when the long flight—s over