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Exoplanet II: Void

de The Contortionist

We long to feel our bodies outside centrifugal conditions
An orderly solar system will outlast this guiding center system

As we leave our galaxy, every certainty abandoned
The referential lawns of man are lost, nothing is relative

Cold and empty space surrounds and swells

Time is moving at invariable speeds and our instruments are useless

Oscillating obsession, beautiful apparatus
These cycles put my mind at ease

Bodies cannot sustain what this was built for
The body cannot sustain what this was built for
We worship oscillation, no other way

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