He raised his first digit
To blot out the opposable world
Oh, how a spinning ball of blue
Can make you feel so small
So why return?
They’re not ready there
They’re not ready for you yet
Packed like sardines and spinning free
Packed like sardines and spinning free
Heroic archetypes reign in the above
An empty moon, a dancing dove
Explorer of the unadorned
Seduced by revelations
Away from duty
Away from wife
Away from country
Away from strife
Hanging in the skies are
Famous stars with their own spotlights
Celestial buddhas in unending caves
Connect the dots within their circles
But the petty ball of blue beckons you
With broken and fragile chaos
A siren of the busy blind
Asking you to wear a watch
And follow leaders who
Should be following you
Rather stay in the tin can and be
Packed like sardines, spinning free
Packed like sardine, spinning free