Tired stars navigate the tiny storms teeming on the far shores of your waist

Tired of waiting for my stationary third world to rotate

So you filled it with oxygen and watched as it floated away.



How could you do that to me?

How could you do that to me?



I start to relate as the meridians trace

lines straight up through your face

And I orbit around your personal space

Tunnel out through your psychology to escape



How could you do that to me?

How could you do that to me?



These are the sirens having come to test your hope

Saying "Oh, we've sewn stones in your throat,

thrown you overboard the boat... now float."