You may be wary of fallen stars   They're always poking around in the dark   The aerial view of a dying man   Screaming out, "Can you help me, invisible man?"      You must be wary of ghosts in the dark   They know all your history, they know all your past   All of the angels are doing their bit   Clearing the house of your animal shit      Fear of flying is eating you whole   I have no fear of dying at all   It's absurd that a silver bird   Should have a fear of flying at all      You may be wary of who you short change   Keeping the short-con well within range   The aerial view of an idiot bird   Screaming out, "Can you help me?", but nobody heard      You may be wary of ghosts of the past   Sexless and incorrigible in the dark   They're making an aerial map of abuse   All of the A roads leading to home