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Over the rooftop sails Billy |
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A string tied to his underwear |
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Through cobbled stone streets a child races |
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And shouts "Billy, come down from there" |
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"My mother's calling" his voice whimpers |
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A string clutched in his tiny hand |
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Not till I've seen the sky's not lit up |
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In tears, child try and understand |
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Don't pull the string, Don't bring me down |
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Don't make me land |
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Plastic palace people |
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Sing silent songs, they dream too long |
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Their memories just stare |
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Plastic palace Alice |
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She steals the cards tomorrow deals |
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With deafening despair |
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Hurry, you've got to get in line |
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Your nose might start to shine |
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And sweat it out and dance about |
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The whole eternal life |
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A harvest of stars surrounds Billy |
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The night clings to his happy eyes |
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Asleep in town square beneath a fountain |
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A child murmurs a weary sigh |
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My mother weeps, And weaves her hair |
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With worries please, Come down from there |
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Plastic palace people |
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Through fields of clay and granite grey |
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They play without a sound |
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Plastic palace Alice |
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Blows gaping holes to store her fears |
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Inside her lovers head |
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Listen, they're laughing in the halls |
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They rip your face with lies |
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To buzzing eyes you cry for help |
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Like gods they bark replies |
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Over the rooftops burns Billy |
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Balloon sadly the string descends |
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Searching its way down through blue submarine air |
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The polka dot underwear |
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To meet the trees, In morning square |
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Just hanging there, Just hanging there |
