Оригинален текст
Flying --- made of sticks and paper ---
aeroplane.
Dying --- is the wind but climbing ---
my aeroplane.
Blowing, and going somewhere high ---
in the evening tumbling down ---
but it's surely been up there.
Crying --- want to live my life as
my aeroplane
Sighing in the sun's eye, but softly ---
my aeroplane.
Lonely, but only till it comes down
where there's people running round.
But it's surely been up there.
Flying --- my aeroplane.