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