On a highway along the Atlantic I'm rifling through these last seventeen years.
The radio waxes romantic. Its lullabies fill our eyes with tears.
We don't say a word.
There's nothing to say that hasn't been heard.
And how you've grown my little bird.
I'm regretting letting you fly.
Six pounds and seven ounces. A ball of bones and flesh and tears were you.
Now your hands, your tiny pink hands, grew larger than my hands ever grew.
We don't say a word.
There's nothing to say that hasn't been heard.
And how you've grown my little bird.
I'm regretting letting you fly.
I'm regretting letting you fly.
I'm regretting letting you fly.
On a highway.
On a highway.
Highway Lyrics performed by Ingrid Michaelson are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Highway Lyrics performed by Ingrid Michaelson is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD