The Postal Service - Recycled Air I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there's nothing left. I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets. Chorus: Ba ba ba ba Ba ba ba ba Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba Knuckles clenched to white as the landing gear retract for flight. My head's a balloon, inflating with the altitude. Chorus I watch the patchwork farms slow fade into the ocean's arms and from here they can't see me stare the stale taste of recycled air. I watch the patchwork farms slow fade into the ocean's arms. Calm down, release your cares. The stale taste of recycled air.