Tired stars navigate the tiny storms teeming on the far shores of your waist
|
Tired of waiting for my stationary third world to rotate
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So you filled it with oxygen and watched as it floated away.
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How could you do that to me? <i>[x2]
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I start to relate as the meridians trace
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lines straight up through your face
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And I orbit around your personal space
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Tunnel out through your psychology to escape
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(How could you do that to me? <i>[x2]</i>)
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These are the sirens having come to test your hope
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Saying "Oh, we've sewn stones in your throat,
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thrown you overboard the boat... now float."
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|
-----------------
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Orbiter
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| Crime In Stereo |
