Tommy Beavitt

From Moscow to Odessa

I'm set to fly from Moscow to Odessa
As usual, the plane is running late
And all I see are blue-clad stewardesses, like princesses,
who tell me to sit down, shut up, and wait.

In Ashkhabad, the weather is just fine,
in contrast with Odessa, where it's snowing
In Kishinev, the sun benignly shines,
It's great out there -- but that's not where I'm going.

I'm told, don't overestimate your chances
The heavens aren't being very nice
And now, they say again, the next Odessa flight's been canceled
Apparently, the runway's turned to ice.

In Murmansk, there is neither rain nor storm
In Kiev and in Lvov, green grass is growing
Tbilisi is enjoyable and warm
It's great down there -- but that's not where Iím going.

Announcement: Flight to Leningrad's now boarding!
I need to reach Odessa by tonight
But over there, they're issuing inclement-weather warnings,
and are accepting no incoming flights.

I need to go where snow-drifts are waist-high,
where thunder rolls and chilly winds are blowing
While somewhere else there might be sunny skies,
and life is good -- but that's not where I'm going.

They say the flight is ready -- stop the presses!
And now we're being ushered to the gate
by beautiful and blue-clad stewardesses, like princesses,
the ones that told me, earlier, to wait.

They've opened every city known to man,
accessible by Tupolev or Boeing
All clear are Paris, London, and Milan
New York's all clear -- but that's not where I'm going.

The pilotís voice immediately distresses
The flight's held up -- I knew this couldn't last
The blue-clad stewardesses, like so many Miss Odessas,
now lead us calmly back into the past.

One more announcement comes: Delayed till eight!
And passengers obediently say, wake me!
But damn, I can no longer bear to wait
I fly off to whatever place will take me.

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