And what comes next?
|
A chance to save ourselves?
|
|
Imagine magma encrusted in rock
|
And on the surface of this world, all eyes are on the clock
|
Cos all our empires, our philosophies, our practiced faiths, our revolutions
|
our proud sciences, are but a flicker in one day of the lives of the stars.
|
|
We can breathe in space, they just don't want us to escape
|
We can breathe in space, they just don't want us to escape
|
|
And what comes next?
|
A chance to save ourselves?
|
|
The constellations yes all 88 of them
|
Like the G8 they meet to procrastinate
|
|
Greetings, we are an infant species
|
crawling, into our own, premature decline
|
The north star is chairing the meeting, he knows we're spoilt
|
and he's sniggering at our histories.
|
|
We can breathe in space, they just don't want us to escape
|
We can breathe in space, they just don't want us to escape
|
|
the hollow proposals mean we'll migrate
|
but they'll bleed us dry until that 11th hour
|
and when dawn breaks i'll sit and stagnate
|
with this metric ton on your shoulders, how do you cope?
|
|
we are an infant species
|
crawling, into our own, premature decline
|
The north star is chairing the meeting, he knows we're spoilt
|
and he's sniggering at our histories.
|
|
lets prove the stars wrong.
|
we've got to do this.
|
and I find it hard to believe that we're are alone...
|
|
-----------------
|
We Can Breathe In Space, They Just Don't Want Us To Escape
|
| Enter Shikari |
