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Description
They say stars are burning balls of gas
But, how do they know?
Maybe stars are made of tin foil
hung there just to make us wonder
Or perpetually flaming dragons
Maybe stars are the camp fires of
a million lonely men and time is
slower there, the fires only just lit
or maybe they're waiting for something.
For someone.

They say meteors are flying bits of rock
but, I thought they said rocks couldn’t fly?
Maybe they say rock because they are
Afraid of the truth-
Maybe they are small round birds that
Flew to close to the waiting stars
And set their wings ablaze.
The rocks are what is left of their eyes.
Nothing good can come to
eyes that dare peer too closely at stars.
Stars like their secrets.

So you see, space isn’t at all what
They tell us it is, because they’ve seen
What happens with their powerful telescopes.
That’s why they tell us not to stare at the sun.

Description
They say stars are burning balls of gas
But, how do they know?
Maybe stars are made of tin foil
hung there just to make us wonder
Or perpetually flaming dragons
Maybe stars are the camp fires of
a million lonely men and time is
slower there, the fires only just lit
or maybe they're waiting for something.
For someone.

They say meteors are flying bits of rock
but, I thought they said rocks couldn’t fly?
Maybe they say rock because they are
Afraid of the truth-
Maybe they are small round birds that
Flew to close to the waiting stars
And set their wings ablaze.
The rocks are what is left of their eyes.
Nothing good can come to
eyes that dare peer too closely at stars.
Stars like their secrets.

So you see, space isn’t at all what
They tell us it is, because they’ve seen
What happens with their powerful telescopes.
That’s why they tell us not to stare at the sun.