About the song
A story for this song hasn’t been added yet.
Words from the artist’s archive
Up Is Just Away lyrics
Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.
Read the lyric sheet
Verse 1
A kid folds the shutoff notice into a paper wing Six-ten at the kitchen table, bus at seven-fifteen Mom circles night-shift numbers through a grocery ad He maps a coast from library books no suitcase ever had The landlord owns the ceiling, not the sky behind his eyes He learns that square feet measure rooms, not where a mind can rise No pilot, no passport, just a pencil past the margin He leaves before the lock can learn the shape of what it's guarding But make-believe can buy a breath; it cannot pay the fee He shuts the book, ties both shoes, and races for the street The first flight of his morning hums on diesel, debt, and sleep A page can move a person long before the body leaves
Chorus
Some flights don't need a plane Some departures need no gate You can rise above the room And never change its weight Some wings are made of pages Some tickets cost your face When your feet forget the ground Up is just a way
Verse 2
A friend arrives on a Thursday with a suitcase by her side Three nights can make old stories feel like no time passed by The house keeps its routine; their laughter takes a side street That little borrowed weekend may be how old friendships breathe Across the room, they trade the years through stories they both know Their words have crossed a thousand miles; the clock moves soft and slow The visit loans them distance from the weeks that need attention A kitchen filled with midnight talk can widen life’s dimensions One came to stay, one gets to host; from outside both are home By Saturday, the suitcase waits beside the bedroom door Sunday morning comes too quickly, like it always did before The car departs where bodies leave; the friendship stays for more
Chorus
Some flights don't need a plane Some departures need no gate You can rise above the room And never change its weight Some wings are made of pages Some tickets cost your face When your feet forget the ground Up is just away
Verse 3
She graduates on Friday, starts on Monday downtown Her mother hangs the tassel where the pencil marks run down The promotion lifts the household, takes her body from the house Money reaches dinner first; her chair keeps dropping out The elevator counts the floors, not what the climb subtracts The new room calls her by her title; the old one saves her chair Her first raise clears the balance that kept double shifts awake It buys her mother Saturdays; it cannot buy the cake She stands between two doorways, one key warm in either hand One opened because she left; one stays open when she lands
Bridge
A passport marks the crossing, not what someone crossed it for A skyline shows the distance, not who waits behind the door A body can cross oceans and keep circling one old page A body can stay rooted and outgrow a borrowed name The map records the distance; the landing names the change Some flights make room behind you Some flights just rename the cage
Chorus
Some flights don't need a plane Some homecomings need no gate You can rise above the room And finally change its weight The wings were made of pages The table kept your place When your feet remember ground Then up is more than away
Inside the recording
A kid folds the shutoff notice into a paper wing Six-ten at the kitchen table, bus at seven-fifteen
Some flights don't need a plane Some departures need no gate
Some flights don't need a plane Some homecomings need no gate
Excerpts from artist-supplied lyric files matched by title. Lyric sheets may differ from the released performance.