powderfinger
pockets
By now you know that I never arrived I was too tired to move I was gonna invent an elaborate excuse But I'm tired of them too    Little pockets of air in the atmosphere Make it easy to breathe So farewell to unpleasant scenes I want you to stay, stay, stay  The blinding flash of circling stars Left relatively shallow scars You played your faux renaissance card To starry eyes and wild applause  It's not your destination So something, something better happen