We broke in where Were not allowed And found a station From a dead undergound And there you kissed me As if goodbye On the dusty platform Like my train had arrived Oh we hold with the grip of a sifter And we smile with the teeth of a comb We can fake what we want to belong But if we dont show our faces We cant be wrong Hands in the air, listen to me This is a stickup at the observatory Were gonna look at just what we wanna see This is a stickup at the observatory The blue beneath your skin is like An atlas of the sky I want to read your book but I Dont want to break the spine We left the concert on skid row And looked up at the building face Office workers in the sky constellate In our ordinary moons We cant see the part we play All the windows in the sky constellate Oh we know were living in a tumour Or we know were living in a coral reef Who can say whats the way to believe But sleep beside a window And you hear it breathe
constellate, stickup, observatory, undergound, sifter