Subterranean Homesick Alien

The breath of the morning i keep forgetting.
The smell of the warm summer air.
I live in a town where you can’t smell a thing,
you watch your feet for cracks in the pavement.
Up above aliens hover making home movies for the folks back home,
of all these wierd creatures who look up their spirits,
drill holes in themselves and live for their secrets.
They’re all up-tight.
I wish that they’d swoop down in a country lane,
late at night when im driving.
Take me on board their beautiful ship, show me the world as id love to see it.
I’d tell all my friends but they’d never believe,
they’d think that i’d finally lost it completely.
I’d show them the stars and the meaning of life. Theyd shut me away.
But i’d be alright. I’m just up-tight.

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