And it all felt a bit like spun sugar

The dulcet threads of lives twisting and intertwining in that city

They bobbed and weaved round the shining skyscrapers and past the blaring displays

Streets muddied by the drudgery of the underlings

But the rest of us flew high

In airships which hung down from the sky

Yet I yearned to go home

For it all felt a bit too much like spun sugar