Arriving and becoming

 The babies fly into arrivals,

And they met the expecting mothers there

They were holding their names up

On placards with all due motherly care

Then the elderly shuffled off to departures

In a state of eternal becoming

And death flew the plane from gate number eight

And piloted it then to the humming

And the businessmen and women

Sat in the lounges of purgatory

Oh it's all just arriving and becoming and going

Departing and flying, and humming and ho-ing 

And it was all at the airport of becoming and going

Arriving and staying home homing

The fathers in the bars and in the shops

The woman looks at bras where she stops

Glass vases and confectionary delectable, 

confetti, chocolates and collectables, 

And duty free bargains play hop scotch

It's just a stone's throw away until you stop

In the airport of becoming and stop watch 

What do you call the men who carry the baggage?

The luggage carriers? No they throw the bags

On the plane. He -throw- She-throw, we all throw up

Sick bag, pick a bag and show us when we stop

But it's all in the bag, by the time the corn pops

Pop tart, Racal Thorn, EMI in the pop chart's top

Top hat, hot tap in the ladies toilets 

Choose to be thing you've been even if you spoil it

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

In the departures lounge, your future

Is written on the clouds

In the lacuna where the sun breaks through