Satellite

There wasn't

There wasn't

There wasn't enough of us

There wasn't

There wasn't

There wasn't enough of us

There wasn't enough of us to replicate

What would you do if you faded in place?

To hold on to what's left of thought

Directing left of centre not

To decline into nothing

Let it age

But I'm no fortune teller

Take your time

Check the weather

Fold your hands

You holy roller

Count the ways you stayed in place to hold it over

There wasn't enough of

I will be

I will be

I will be a satellite

I will be

I will be

I will be a satellite

I will be a satellite I dread

To pull me loose a fray a golden thread

A silver little waif you thought

You held up tied me in knots

What will I take to balance out my head?

But I'm no fortune teller

As you climb up the ladder

Fall in line

As for pleasure

Count the ways we fade away, you holy roller

I will be a satellite

But I can't pretend just how to mend

Like a branch bends into the fire

I will extend your hand to mine

Just as I can dismantle and sigh

But I'm no fortune teller

Take your time

Check the weather

Fold your hands

You holy roller

Count the ways we fade away to hold it over

But I'm no fortune teller

Count the ways you stayed in place to hold it over

I will be

I will be

I will be a satellite