Topic - Sea voayges and exploration
Topic - Demagogues and coercion
Sweating, steaming, pushing forth to the sky. Energy converting in the blink of an eye
Satellites keep spinning, the stars float round above, will us meat sacks down below find out what we're made of?
Satellites keep spin, the stars float round above,
Stars will die, colours fade, light not allowed. But will we rise above it all and make those mothers proud?
And when the time comes for us to live among the stars, spare a thought for those of us who'll never get that far.
Through the air we'll savour what's to come, just a whiff, when the old and grey will say "Too much to smell, no time to sniff".
With simple clumsy facts floating through our open heads, the stars may be our future but we stay below instead.
The ground is where you reach up to a sky thats falling down, to a place that we might arrive and ghosts are all but found
If I stare up at the stars for long enough I'll get to sleep. But the stars remind me of things that keep me awake at night