 Have you heard the news from outer space?
It seems that somewhere in the ancient dunes
of silver moons, like giant spoons lie dusty tombs
of Martian men in U-boat pens...
and they will come to kill us all.
'Cause our plastic factories
and our catastrophic theories
are all we have / we live our lives from paper bags, and
I know better than you know -
I'll kill you 'cause you drive too slow!
Aggressive instincts will do us in, yeah...
just give us the chance for us to prove it ourselves.
(Don't you know that all machines sink?
Do you know they sing as they think?
Although their bodies are electric...
Don't you know that all machines think?)
So we laid back and we watched space revolve
the bodies of astronauts long cold
blinking like lonely satellites...
Where we left vapour trails through cotton skies -
come on, let's scratch the heavens one last time!
'Cause we're all sinking in the sunshine
and though you'd love to stay,
well, you said you must be on your way
to where the rainbows and UFOs
fall ten at a time
in a shower of glitter and gold...
… we'll all be waiting for you here.
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