We broke in where We're not allowed And found a station From a dead undergound. And there you kissed me As if goodbye On the dusty platform Like my train had arrived Oh we hold with the grip of a sifter And we smile with the teeth of a comb We can fake what we want to belong But if we don't show our faces We can't be wrong. Hands in the air, listen to me This is a stickup at the observatory We're gonna look at just what we wanna see This is a stickup at the observatory. The blue beneath your skin is like An atlas of the sky I want to read your book but I Don't want to break the spine. We left the concert on skid row And looked up at the building face Office workers in the sky constellate In our ordinary moons We can't see the part we play All the windows in the sky constellate. Oh we know we're living in a tumour Or we know we're living in a coral reef Who can say what's the way to believe But sleep beside a window And you hear it breathe.