Song Lyrics

We're satellites

we're violent skies

we're Martian rovers, and four leafed clovers

and everything crossed

we're billions of eyes

we're entangled thighs

we're algoriths, and familiar schisms

zeroes and ones

and there's a fat chance we'll iron out so many

of the creases that lie in the path

yes there's a fat chance we'll iron out so many

of the creases that lie in the path 

leading to the future

we're woke or not woke

we're oceans of Coke

we're clouds of glysophate dropped from payload bays 

and it's all too late

we're space junk

we're galleons sunk

we're rivers of dung, and Hail Mary's unsung

and nowhere to hide

so don't bother waiting

cos the accident has already happened

no don’t bother waiting

because there are no happy accidents

and there's a fat chance we'll iron out so many

of the creases that lie in the path

yes there's a fat chance we'll iron out so many

of the creases that lie in the path 

leading to the future