Down at the train they go to independence everyday But anywhere else now seems like a million miles away And I must have been high to believe that I would ever leave Now I'm just a flat fine line like the wichita skyline
I rode on the airstream across the great lonesome afternoon I wished hard enough to hurt, drove fast enough to catch the moon But I must have been dreaming again 'cause there's nothing around the bend Except for that flat fine line, the wichita skyline
As far as salina I can get that good station from larue I'm searching the dial while I'm scanning the sky for a patch of blue And I watch the black clouds roll in chasing me back again Back to the flat fine line, the wichita skyline
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