kerobaros

and that's why we need unions.

in the not-too-distant future (next Sunday A.D.)
there was a guy named Joel, not too different from you or me
he worked at Gizmonic Institute, just another face in a red jumpsuit
he did a good job cleaning up the place but his bosses didn't like him so they shot him into space

Hey, don't you wanna go down
Like some disgraced cosmonaut
A million miles below their feet
A million miles, a million miles
Being with you, girl, like being low
Hey, hey, hey, like being stoned

these are the days of miracle and wonder; this is the long distance call
the way the camera follows us in slow-mo, the way we look to us all
the way we look to a distant constellation that's dying in a corner of the sky
these are the days of miracle and wonder, don't cry, baby, don't cry, don't cry

there's a club where you'd like to go
you could meet someone who's lost like you
revel in the darkness like a pair of open graves
fumble through the fog for a season or two

thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music
thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music

some will die in hot pursuit in fiery auto crashes
some will die in hot pursuit while sifting through my ashes
some will fall in love with life and drink it like a fountain
that is pouring like an avalanche coming down the mountain