John Fitch lived at the very edge of town
At night he read the good book and he cleaned his only gun
Twenty years he passed this way, and no one ever passed his way
Until the white lights shone out on the lawn

Oh the white lights shone out on the lawn
A sound like fifty angel trumpets blew into his ear
They punched a wormhole in his cabin, he felt he were underwater
I don't know where they went, but it's not here

They took him where nobody knew his name
In perfect French they told him all Earth people look the same
Though a lesser man would cry, John Fitch kept his hunter’s eye
Upon the engines glowing white and blue

When John returned, he built a space canoe
With engines glowing red and white, and blue
He pitched his plans to a city bank: They made him walk the city plank
Outside he shook his fist and cursed their name and sang his song:

Someday! Someday I'm gonna fly away.

The day will come when some more powerful man
will get fame and riches from my invention
and nobody will believe that poor John Fitch
could do anything worthy of attention.

Nobody ever watched him fly away
Nothing left to live on Earth for, nothing left to say
He spat as earth shrunk out of sight. History would prove him right.
Down below, still Fitchburg chugs away.

And someday, we're gonna fly away. Someday, we're gonna fly away.