You may be wary of fallen stars
They're always poking around in the dark
The aerial view of a dying man
Screaming out, "Can you help me, invisible man?"
You must be wary of ghosts in the dark
They know all your history, they know all your past
All of the angels are doing their bit
Clearing the house of your animal shit
Fear of flying is eating you whole
I have no fear of dying at all
It's absurd that a silver bird
Should have a fear of flying at all
You may be wary of who you short change
Keeping the short-con well within range
The aerial view of an idiot bird
Screaming out, "Can you help me?", but nobody heard
You may be wary of ghosts of the past
Sexless and incorrigible in the dark
They're making an aerial map of abuse
All of the A roads leading to home