[Verse 1] Mash the buttons, knock knock, never yield Phobias in motion blowing smoke into the sterile field Wonkavator up beyond the seraphim, terra beneath the keratin Every bit precariously jerry-rigged His helmet is a case of Bud, he factor in the paper cuts Corrugated cockpit, I'm not exactly Major Tom Buzzed Aldrin, I can't count backwards Ten, one, someone get this buzzard to the Matmos Ten thousand hours addressing open beaks Exiting the atmosphere with no green to chroma key Greebles on the body, tin cans on the bumper Slip into the freezing ether like a pea coat from his mother How much interstellar freedom can he reasonably suffer? More than you can feed through a shutter I use a phony voice when I'm yelling, "Nobody's home" I'm a liar, but I wouldn't say I'm wrong
[Chorus] I ain't really seen land in a minute AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs Faint transmission after nothing for the summer I have never seen so many colors Uh, ayy
[Verse 2] The human heart tattoo move in a hard vacuum Only back to pay a bill or maybe fill a cart with cat food I'm shredded, smelling like I just stepped off a charred capsule, I did That's not imaginary ash in his wig That's rounding Cygnus with a souvenir from galaxy quest I know it sound like myth and magic, but the shrapnel commits I give a fuck about a factory scent, we mostly play to the fringe They figure, "What's a little tape on the wings?" A little glue, a little paint, a little staple and string You won't believe how far the garbage when that radio ping Behold a view or two where you could lose your voice at the moon I hope you like your beef and veggies with the moisture removed Dig it, the low rider, lower the gold visor Nosedive guided by the ghost of Laika, my heavens Slow drive, side-eye stealthy When can we expect you? Why would you expect me?
[Chorus] I ain't really seen land in a minute AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs Faint transmission after nothing for the summer I have never seen so many colors
[Verse 3] Tangentially related in the sense of one's environment Informing what they're made of There was a ghost who broke it all up into tiny numbers And dated vector graphics and New York Times puzzles Who struggled knowing love as more than boring data entry More reported from an orbit all his own, to say it gently I'm reporting from an orbit all my own, to say it gently Catch a wave in the jalopy down to burn up on re-entry Man the laser, do you copy? Keep invaders on the business end Autopilot zeroes in on zero wind for pissing in Fixer-upper, she putt like a Plymouth Duster From bucket to mothership, if you're up for a little sunburn, stat Neighbors at the mercy of a thin wall One side nap, one satellite pinball Fun size asteroids pingin' off the cabin Ping, ping, the soundtrack of shrinking into blackness I blink through 4D, droid sitting bitch scorned The voice of destroy and rebuild Who rose above the partly cloudy counting on a Galaga hack His only carry-on's a napkin of math From packed in a menagerie to cheese and crackers at the apogee Add a little finding God and trying not to atrophy, um I know you're whispering about me at the corner store "We've seen the glowing light from under his apartment door"
[Chorus] I ain't really seen land in a minute AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs Faint transmission after nothing for the summer I have never seen so many colorsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
