[TM] 160 - What song best describes your life?
I’m a pilot. And a soldier. I fly, and I serve my country.
And for the record? Yeah...I sorta tend to do ‘em in that order.
When I joined the military, it was a means to an end. I wanted to fly the biggest and the fastest planes I could find, and I wanted to have a good time doing it. So I enlisted...and I found that flying the biggest and the fastest planes, choppers, and jets while serving my country was more than just fun, it was downright enriching. Gave me all kinds of warm fuzzies, if you want to put it that way.
Problem is that I love my work...maybe a little too much.
I’ve been called on it more than once...Shannon, Weir, even that workaholic Riley (Mike, for those who don’t know the secret of the tats yet...or the fact that Mike’s got that *tiny* little mole on his left earlobe)...they all know that I’m not exactly Mr. Stability. I’m married to the air...there have been a few women, but in the end I always pick the sky before them. I haven’t met the girl yet that makes me feel the same thing I feel when I’m, quite literally, high as a kite...or these days, maybe a few thousand fathoms below sea level.
We all have that one thing that makes us who we are...that’s completely inseparable from everything from our name to our skin. Most people spend their lives looking for it in someone else...soulmates and the like. Sometimes it *is* another person...but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s something else entirely, and when you find that, the truth is painful and fulfilling at the same time.
When you find that one thing...you’re no good to any other human being for the rest of your life. Not unless they’re walking that same path you are.
I have a good life. People I care about...yes, people I love...things I do outside of flying and serving...I’m not miserable, and I’m not suffering.
But sometimes, yeah...I am a little lonely because the rest of the world just doesn’t get it.
It’s like the Stranger says...I ain’t wrong, I’m just different.
* * * * *
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probly just ride away
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountian moringin's
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
And them that don't know him won't like him
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him
He ain't wrong he's just different
but his pride won't let him do things to make you think he's right
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Muse: John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate ATLANTIS
Words: 377 (w/o lyrics)
And for the record? Yeah...I sorta tend to do ‘em in that order.
When I joined the military, it was a means to an end. I wanted to fly the biggest and the fastest planes I could find, and I wanted to have a good time doing it. So I enlisted...and I found that flying the biggest and the fastest planes, choppers, and jets while serving my country was more than just fun, it was downright enriching. Gave me all kinds of warm fuzzies, if you want to put it that way.
Problem is that I love my work...maybe a little too much.
I’ve been called on it more than once...Shannon, Weir, even that workaholic Riley (Mike, for those who don’t know the secret of the tats yet...or the fact that Mike’s got that *tiny* little mole on his left earlobe)...they all know that I’m not exactly Mr. Stability. I’m married to the air...there have been a few women, but in the end I always pick the sky before them. I haven’t met the girl yet that makes me feel the same thing I feel when I’m, quite literally, high as a kite...or these days, maybe a few thousand fathoms below sea level.
We all have that one thing that makes us who we are...that’s completely inseparable from everything from our name to our skin. Most people spend their lives looking for it in someone else...soulmates and the like. Sometimes it *is* another person...but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s something else entirely, and when you find that, the truth is painful and fulfilling at the same time.
When you find that one thing...you’re no good to any other human being for the rest of your life. Not unless they’re walking that same path you are.
I have a good life. People I care about...yes, people I love...things I do outside of flying and serving...I’m not miserable, and I’m not suffering.
But sometimes, yeah...I am a little lonely because the rest of the world just doesn’t get it.
It’s like the Stranger says...I ain’t wrong, I’m just different.
* * * * *
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probly just ride away
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountian moringin's
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
And them that don't know him won't like him
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him
He ain't wrong he's just different
but his pride won't let him do things to make you think he's right
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such
Muse: John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate ATLANTIS
Words: 377 (w/o lyrics)