"I love to fly... It's just a long, peace and quiet,
Nothing around you but clear, blue sky.
No one to hassle you, no one to tell you where to go, or what to do.
The only bad part about flying is having to come back down to the fucking world."

Slowly, the albatross comes down.
And witless, his body meets the ground.
And like him I find peace,
Like him I get release,
As the bastard son of all that's turned out wrong.

Well, you've got a lot to tease me about,
Well, I'm just lucky, I guess.
Ain't nobody talkin' bout the clothes I've been wearin',
Well, take it from me I've been blessed.

And I've seen the desolation all their attention brings.
And I learned my lesson at the back of the classroom.
If your voice is a loud one, try not to say anything.

So won't you please be gentle with this one, He's meek and he's mild, messianic child. Can't you see he's hopelessly bold, he's bought and he's sold, And there's more than he's told.

And when everything turns out wrong, He knows it'll be alright. I'm the bastard son of all that's wrong.

And I've seen the desolation all their attention brings.
And I learned my lesson at the back of the classroom.
If your voice is a loud one, you'll never stop screaming.

Well there's been so many days you have shouted it down to them, Searching the ground for a good place to land again. And you've been drifing in the meantime, Aching in the meantime. You know we albatross are made to fly not land... You know we albatross are made to fly not land... You know we albatross are made to fly not land... And you'll never stop screaming.