Can you see, child?
A star, on its silent ride
Moving steadily, in a set direction.
Oh, but it’s not a star
Lonely satellite
Drifting through the celestial blackness.
Silhouettes, silhouettes, take my hand,
Oh, dear
There’s a scar on it, oddly curved and twisted
Well, it’s not a scar
Stain of nicotine
Cigarette, cigarette, evil trickster.
Cloud Factory 