Another moth disintegrates
Hovering in the beam of a searchlights
That's looking for a trace of a plane
Whose pilot it's a shame has gone insane
You can see the silhouette across the moon
He hung himself mid-flight in the bathroom
Why is it so high?
Why is it so much?
Hovering in the beam of a searchlights
That's looking for a trace of a plane
Whose pilot it's a shame has gone insane
You can see the silhouette across the moon
He hung himself mid-flight in the bathroom
Why is it so high?
Why is it so much?
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