“Did it all get real, I guess it’s real enough
They got refrigerators full of blood
Another century spent pointing guns
At anything that moves
Sometimes I worry that I’ve lost the plot
My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts
I never really dreamed of heaven much
Until we put him in the ground
But it’s all I’m doing now
Listening for patterns in the sound
Of an endless static sea
But once the satellite’s deceased
It blows like garbage through the streets
Of the night sky to infinity
But don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
There is nothing as lucky
Don’t you weep
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free”