BT - Satellite

She smells of the sun and she's constantly saying that's it's all right, because lies sound so nice. And like soil to seed goes to casting my fears aside... She says, 'The satellite is coming'. I pray, the wrecking ball is waining She says, 'The satellite is coming. It's come to take us home'. Satellite... Still smells of the sun and the light that brings healing is burning my eyes and the dark seems so nice and I'm choking on blessings that I can receive I hide. She says, 'The satellite is coming'. I pray, wrecking ball is waining. She says, 'The satellite is coming. It's come to take us home'.