The breath, of the morning
i keep forgetting the smell of the warm summer air
i live in a town where you can't smell a thing
you watch your feet for cracks in the pavement..

up above aliens hover making home movies for the folks back home
of all these wierd creatures who lock up their spirits
drill holes in themselves and live for their secrets..

they're all up-tight..

i with that they'd swoop down in a country lane
late at night when im driving
take me on board their beautiful ship
show me the wold as id love to see it
i'd tell all my friends but they'd never believe me
they'd think that i'd finally lost it completely
i'd show them the starts and the meaning of life
they'd shut me away but i'd be alright
i'm just up-tight..