Cartão Postal

I’m sitting inside a postcard
Looking up close, everything’s so normal
The prettiest picture of a capital
Printed in a magazine made me happy
But looking up close
I admit, everything’s so normal

I bought a hang glider to try for a flight
I tried, didn’t make it, but I’ll try again
The problem is I don’t know how to climb the hill
And you gotta be up high to take the leap
I couldn’t find a way, but it’s written
I’ll try again

I wait for my dinner under the table
Sitting here quietly, I get the feeling
That the legs beside me will grow old
And the shoes they wear will lose their shine
The flesh lasts less than any wood

Than any wood
Than any wood

Than any wood
Than any wood