The Most Frequent Flyer

Lyrics

Yeah. Check it.
So there's this cat, right?
From Jersey. Sells cars.
Made a deal back in nineteen-ninety.
Listen.

Two hundred and ninety thousand dollars.
Nineteen-ninety. United Airlines.
They sold him a piece of paper, a plastic card.
Promised him the sky for the rest of his time.
Folks probably figured he was a fool.
Car salesman, dropping that kind of bread.
But Tom Stuker, he wasn't playing by their rules.
He heard a different promise in his head.
Not a vacation. Not a trip.
A deed. To a house that never lands.
Best investment he ever made, from his own lip.
Held the whole damn spinning world in his hands.

He said, "The plane will go with or without me."
So he went with it. Every time.
Twenty-three million miles of loyalty.
Living a life on United's dime.
His address is a seat number, 1A.
His neighborhood, the United Club lounge.
He wakes up in a different city every day.
The only king on his flying ground.

Flight attendants know his name, know his drink.
He's seen the same movie a hundred times.
Eaten ten thousand meals that make you think
About the strange poetry of airline crimes.
That reheated lasagna at thirty-five thousand feet.
The recycled air, the engine's constant drone.
For him, that ain't the grind. That's the sweet.
The only real quiet he's ever known.
Twelve thousand flights. You hear me?
That ain't travel. That's a religion.
He laid his money down on their welcome mat
And moved into the sky. A new tradition.

He said, "The plane will go with or without me."
Yeah.
So he went with it. Every single time.
Twenty-three million miles of loyalty.
Living a life on United's dime.
His address is a seat number, 1A.
His neighborhood, the United Club lounge.
He wakes up in a different city every day.
The only king on his flying ground.

Flew to Australia for a wedding, no lie.
Flew back to Jersey to close a deal.
Flew back to Australia for the party that night.
Tell me that ain't a different kind of real.
He ain't collecting points for a toaster.
He collected the whole damn map.
He's a ghost on the global roster.
Caught forever in the system's trap... or its lap.
Yeah. The lap of luxury.

He's probably up there right now.
Looking down.
Just another Tuesday.
Newark to Narita.
The plane was going anyway.
Might as well be on it.