Cruising down the stratosphere, found a friend who understands
So lower your stares and slither down
I've been tired and this could be fun, this could be fun
Back inside and keeping near the blank,
Fake trees, and they don't breathe
But neither do you, so let's go inside
And find a room and get real weird, and get real weird
And I could feel you slipping away,
And I could know that you were away
I could know my arms and legs,
But I've been why, are you leaving now?
Are you leaving now?