You say you want to live life in the pocket,
But you lit it too early and your soul’s a bottle rocket.
Just like me you’re shrugging off extinction,
With a single blink you think we might be on a mission.
Dialing the vision, undoing the long division,
Meet you at the tiny diner ‘til we find a better home.
Another wagon chase scene, another moth to the moon,
Another road paved with graves,
Mankind’s a wrecking ball that will fuck up your name,
Another sounds the same.
Conjoined black holes,
With a generic sense of cool.
And we are going
There’s a spirit hanging over your bed,
A conscious breeze blowing right through our head.
A billion thoughts that refuse to admit they’re dead,
About the girl who still thinks that she’s doomed never to wed.
Meet me at the tiny diner ‘til we find a better home,
There’s so much for us to learn just acting casual.
Coincidences making sense as long as the fences are thrown,
Breath in summer in the sky,
Two more moths to the moon.
Because we are
With souls who’s
Clouds part like the crowds
Who are going
Your soul is a bottle rocket.
I’ll try not to steal your bang,
just to hide in my locket.