A City Fly:

I'm A City Fly
And I hate crowds,
That's why I fly
High in the clouds.

The air up here
Is easier to breathe,
If I stay on my wings
And off of my feet.

All of them people
Walking down there,
Their all in a hurry
To get to somewhere.

And all of them lines
They must wait in,
To get to the front
Before the day ends.

One after the other
Their in and their out,
They cause such a ruckus
As they scatter about.

Make up your minds
Turn it up or down,
It's too much noise
If I hear just a sound.

And all of that smoke
That comes floating up,
This is the Big Apple
Not a country club.

There's not much space
Up here in the clouds,
Just alot of tall buildings
And windows to look out.

For now all seems well
The calm before the storm,
All the streets are bare
Not a single life form.

But in a short minute
The windows will clear,
Soon the streets will be
Full of people and cheers.

You talking about crowds
Then you better believe me,
Cause from way up her
There's alot of dots to see.