Mash the buttons, knock, knock, never yield

Phobias in motion blowing smoke into the sterile field

Wonkavator up beyond the seraphim, terra beneath the keratinEvery bit precariously jerry-rigged

His helmet is a case of Bud, he factor in the paper cuts

Corrugated cockpit, I′m not exactly Major Tom

Buzzed Aldrin, I can't count backwards

Ten, one, someone get this buzzard to the Matmos

Ten thousand hours addressing open beaks

Exiting the atmosphere with no green to chroma key

Greebles on the body, tin cans on the bumper

Slip into the freezing ether like a pea coat from his mother

How much interstellar freedom can he reasonably suffer?

More than you can feed through a shutter

I use a phony voice when I′m yelling, "Nobody's home"

I'm a liar, but I wouldn′t say I′m wrong

I ain't really seen land in a minute

AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs.

Faint transmission after nothing for the summer

I have never seen so many colours

Uh, ayy

The human heart tattoo move in a hard vacuum

Only back to pay a bill or maybe fill a cart with cat food

I′m shredded

Smelling like I just stepped off a charred capsule, I did

That's not imaginary ash in his wig

That′s rounding Cygnus with a souvenir from galaxy quest

I know it sound like myth and magic, but the shrapnel commits

I give a fuck about a factory scent, we mostly play to the fringe

They figure, "What's a little tape on the wings?

A little glue, a little paint, a little staple and string

You won′t believe how far the garbage when that radio ping

Behold a view or two where you could lose your voice at the moon

I hope you like your beef and veggies with the moisture removed

Dig it, the low rider, lower the gold visor

Nosedive guided by the ghost of Laika, my heavens

Slow drive, side-eye stealthy

When can we expect you?

Why would you expect me?

I ain't really seen land in a minute

AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs.

Faint transmission after nothing for the summer

I have never seen so many colours

Tangentially related in the sense of one's environment

Informing what they′re made of

There was a ghost who broke it all up into tiny numbers

And dated vector graphics and New York Times puzzles

Who struggled knowing love as more than boring data entry

More reported from an orbit all his own, to say it gently

I′m reporting from an orbit all my own, to say it gently

Catch a wave in the jalopy down to burn up on re-entry

Man the laser, do you copy? Keep invaders on the business end

Autopilot zeroes in on zero wind for pissing in

Fixer-upper, she putt like a Plymouth Duster

From bucket to mothership, if you're up for a little sunburn, stat

Neighbors at the mercy of a thin wall

One side nap, one satellite pinball

Fun size asteroids pingin′ off the cabin

Ping, ping, the soundtrack of shrinking into blackness

I blink through 4D, droid sitting, bitch scorned

The voice of destroy and rebuild

Who rose above the partly cloudy counting on a Galaga hack

His only carry-on's a napkin of math

From packed in a menagerie to cheese and crackers at the apogee

Add a little finding God and trying not to atrophy, um

I know you′re whispering about me at the corner store

"We've seen the glowing light from under his apartment door"

I ain′t really seen land in a minute

AWOL spaceman, wave to the Mrs.

Faint transmission after nothing for the summer

I have never seen so many colours