Starsailor

Black suit agents push through the market stalls

The things they sniff out might elude your eyes

And what's the sense in preserving paper walls

if they can steal the honey from the hive

And if you feel it's time to make that change

Baby baby babe, you're going strange

As we chartered across the methane sea

Tower-shaped machines compressed the soil

And pump the air with a compound I can breathe

Turning tears of blood to drops of oil

And if the stars begin to rearrange