The sky will fall.
Step outside and feed the stars because they're close to burning out.
How else would we find the sky,
did you think of that?
Left until our lives unfold
through stories we told.
We thought of everything.
Transfixed on the luminance,
an antidote for all of this.
Constellations you'd die for.
We need them.
We all sit here waiting,
we're waiting for our sky to fall in.
We all sit here waiting,
we're waiting for our sky to fall on broken legs.
Bet you thought they're permanent,
what luck.
How else would we find the sky?
We need them.
Our sky will fall.
Step outside and feed the stars because they're close to burning out.
How else would we find the sky?
We need them.
Bet you think you had no problem inlaid in moral content your not the only one I surely hope it falls on broken legs.