Voices From The Fuselage Departure Lyrics
Departure by Voices From The Fuselage
Solace in the night
Graceful rays of light
Skin cells and scattered dust in flight
Radiant stars ablaze
Threatening a blinding rage
Spectrum of colour misplaced
Cravings to explore
Gravity contort
Convoluted ground from which, born
Tearing from the helm
Longing an outer cell
Take me to the moon to dwell
Take to flight
Brace for danger
A kiss goodbye and to the angels you go
And I know it's over
Do I already know the ground I roam?
Pay witness to memories rising from words on a page
I could be wrong
My youth is a dove that cries to be freed from its cage
We risk it all
In the hope that we find satisfaction at a later stage
Oh how we were wrong
We are the modern age
Take to flight
Brace for danger
A kiss goodbye and to the angels you go
And I know it's over
[Voiceover]
We are vessels. We are circuit boards
Swallowing the electricity of life upon birth
It wheels through us creating every moment
The pulse of a story, the soft hums of labor and love
In our last moment it will come rushing
From our chests and be given back to the wind
When we die. We go everywhere
Graceful rays of light
Skin cells and scattered dust in flight
Radiant stars ablaze
Threatening a blinding rage
Spectrum of colour misplaced
Cravings to explore
Gravity contort
Convoluted ground from which, born
Tearing from the helm
Longing an outer cell
Take me to the moon to dwell
Take to flight
Brace for danger
A kiss goodbye and to the angels you go
And I know it's over
Do I already know the ground I roam?
Pay witness to memories rising from words on a page
I could be wrong
My youth is a dove that cries to be freed from its cage
We risk it all
In the hope that we find satisfaction at a later stage
Oh how we were wrong
We are the modern age
Take to flight
Brace for danger
A kiss goodbye and to the angels you go
And I know it's over
[Voiceover]
We are vessels. We are circuit boards
Swallowing the electricity of life upon birth
It wheels through us creating every moment
The pulse of a story, the soft hums of labor and love
In our last moment it will come rushing
From our chests and be given back to the wind
When we die. We go everywhere