Testo: North Atlantic Oscillation. Ceiling Poem.

:
You're not flying in my skies again
Not after that landing
Or that skewed approach
You're not getting off the ground this year
Limitless corrosion
Questionable skills

You woke up in a cotton-white cube
Clutching hand-forged papers
Muttering callsigns
You were found in numerous back streets
Holding an umbrella like a satellite dish