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Filligar
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The Observatory
Breathing in transmissions, I've got wax paper eyes.
Well, it's perfect outside.
And traveling through shapes in leafy forests of sound––
Would you show me around?
Goodness, gracious, put us on our way.
We were long lost and searching every day.
The gasoline farms where I lost my frames,
where the colors were painted by the length of the wave.
And everyone was happy when the light had run.
We were pretty for a while,
we were staring at the sun.
We waited around for the disorder to be done,
but we were better off, and we were happy.
No one wears their glasses anymore.
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When we're blurs we care about the bigger picture.
Smoke bombs rise into my eyes.
They say, 'Don't worry about the details,
'cause who can see the details?'
Goodness, gracious, put us on our way.
We were long lost and searching everyday.
The gasoline farms where I lost my frames,
where the colors were painted by the length of the wave.
And everyone was happy when the light had run.
We were pretty for a while,
we we're staring at the sun.
We waited around for the disorder to be done,
but we were better off and we were happy.
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