Have you ever looked at the sky and felt forever? Like the stars are having conversations behind our backs- Taking bets, Sipping on cheap wine and Smoking cigarettes.
Maybe they're telling stories? Cracking a joke, drinking a beer, and Gambling on our silhouettes. Drunk, they must fall out of the sky and down to earth, Like their butts created black smoke- Raining from the atmosphere.
And maybe that's why the world is so ****** up, Chalk it up to star dust. They must really enjoy it up there, Faded in the stratosphere.