Fiction Plane

You're not alone
You got a million people sharing your bed
Let's call it home
You've got the earth's crust over your head
We've got you building satelites
To protect you from the lights
The lights we haven't shown you
We all deserve the sun
But there's nothing to be done
The future has outgrown you
What could be wrong with them?
We've given them everything
Send someone to humour them
What could be wrong?
Zero, zero
A mile and a half underground
Zero, zero
The lovers here do not make a sound
It's just a hole
And nobody here remembers the sun
We want a soul
We want to feel like our lives have begun
But down here in the dirt
There is gravity and work
And cavities of coldness
No concept of the time
No tasting of the wine
Just the ringing of our oldness
What could be wrong with them?
It's time to escape, my friend
The chance may not come again
What could be wrong?
Zero, zero
A mile and a half underground
Zero, zero
The lovers here do not make a sound
Zero, zero
A mile and a half underground
Zero, zero
The lovers here do not make a sound
*solo*
Zero, zero
A mile and a half underground
Zero, zero
The lovers here do not make a sound
Zero, zero
A mile and a half underground
Zero, zero
The lovers here do not make a sound
End