Riding the Static, Part I: Sent Spinning

Ten thousand suns

Run spinning in the dark.

Skating on the gears

Of Chronos' clock.

Racing 'round our own

Little porcelain globe,

We cast ourselves out

From the world that we know.

We ride toward the edge of oblivion.

We ride toward the edge of oblivion.

Sealed in, locked down

Tied to our seats,

Riding on laser beams 

'Cross the aetheric sea.

We peel back the membranous boundary,

Hurled past the high garden wall.

Hoping for the best

And fearing the worst,

Endlessly onward we fly.

We ride toward the edge of oblivion.

We ride toward the edge of oblivion.