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14 years I've spent inside this tiny ship this satellite that orbits earth, a distant melody
I tried real hard to find my sound I've honed my craft I did my best but now I've found out this not be for me
I've screamed and whispered into the milky way but I never found the audience for my broken star play
My satellites a joke and it's all my damn fault. I've always used humor as my shield
I 'm running out of fuel I've been chasing the wrong dream the bridge seems to get closer every day
I don't want see the view from halfway down If Chris dies, does the musicdude live on?