Satellites Are Falling

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Description

I’m floating paper, I’m floating thin, I’m drifting through the mall.
Let’s count the steps again, though we’ve done it all before.
I’ll take you to the spinning cups, see the winter fair.
You’ll share your pills, we wash them down with cigarettes and beer.

This is our kingdom built of gold on land somebody stole.
We had some dreams of getting out, but the gravity is strong.
Yeah, maps keep changing, still our desire stays the same.
Lives of quiet desperations—just the nature of the game.

The satellites are falling,
Falling from the sky,
And we don’t know why.
We don’t know why.

I see your beauty, your mannequin stare.
Feel the weight of it, and the taste of city air.
We slip between the sleeping cars,
And streetlight constellations guide us home.

But there are frequencies, frequencies we can’t decode.
Messages in dollar bills and numbers on the road.
The laundromats keep spinning, demanding our gold.
We’ll feed the parking meters, and keep doing what we’re told.

The satellites are falling,
Falling from the sky.
We don’t know why.
We don’t know why.