Orbiter - Crime In Stereo

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?

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?

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.»