Tripod - Meteor | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Tripod
• Meteor

Nineteen ninety four,
We were narrowly missed by a great big meteor,
Didn't really make front page news.
We're too busy cooking crumpets,
And wearing out shoes.
Wearing out shoes.

So my mind starts thinkin' 'bout the possibility,
What's a cloudy blue rock in relation to a galaxy?
Like a snail on the footpath, you haven't got a chance,
If you're in the way, you're in the way,
All you can do is check your pants,
Check your pants.
Check your pants.

Or you sing about it.

Meteor.
Meteor.
Meteor, what a mighty big...
... slap in the face.
Are you sure?
Meteor?
Meteor?
'Cause you know, we're rather fond of this place.

Everybody wants to save the world,
Get to the stage when the spiritual age has the questions answered.
Find another energy source,
Or maybe live under the sea, become one planet celebrating humanity,

You wouldn't read about it.

Meteor.
Meteor.
Meteor, what a mighty big...
... slap in the face.
Are you sure?
Meteor?
Meteor?
'Cause you know, we're rather fond of this place.

So many things I haven't done,
Ears ring procrastination,
"Hello." "How are you?" "Not bad, yourself?"
I see the sky light up,
A beautiful reverberation.
"How 'bout this weather?" "It's something else."
Look towards my circle of loved ones,
See a defeated face,
Close our eyes and hold our breath,
And realise we're fond of this place.

Meteor, meteor.
What a mighty big...
... slap in the face.
Are you sure?
Are you sure?
Meteor?
Meteor?
'Cause you know, we're rather...
Fond of this place.
This place...
This place...
This place...