Some day a shooting star is gonna shoot me downBurn these high rises back into a ghost townOf iridium-white cloudsMatted close against the groundWhile the sky hangs empty as a frameSee the reddening horizon lineFeel the planet spilling on the space timeAll the way down Somerset, I take pictures of cementFor the history books on Mother EarthTo the west now it beginsIn the sound waves in the windThere is an echo going by meOf the mountains caving inAnd the potted roads and IKnew that one day we would dieAnd become smooth and whole againLike the ash that sweeps the skySome day a shooting star is gonna shoot me downBurn these high rises back into a ghost townThere's holy water lying in the crater wellHeavy metals, high test gasolineBlessed singularityA telescoping memoryWhere the sky still flickers through the leaves
