Natasha Bedingfield

I came with the season of the colour 

The making of the dollar 

The future and the preacher words of clowns 

The preacher words of clowns



I came from the city made of sulfer 

My breath smells of vinegar 

No respect, I forgot the gallipot 

Forgot the gallipot



I'm always in some kind of mire....mire 

And I want to try to get higher



Helicopter 

I call it the freeway 

Look what money can buy 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

I call it the aerospace



I went as president of Amerika 

With flashes of cameras 

I can't wait to get home to my mama 

To get home to my mama 

I went lifted up by a propeller 

I brought my umbrella 

If I wanted to jump off in the night 

To jump off in the night 

I'm always in some kind of mire....mire 

I want to buy not hire



Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Helicopter 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

I call it the freeway 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Look what money can buy 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

I call it the aerospace 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Look what money can buy 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

I like to fly 

I like to fly



I die as a happy fella 

Distant suns and stellas 

Twinkling like helicopter flies



Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

I call it the freeway 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Look what money can buy 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Some men prefer to sail the sea 

Look what money can buy