He cut your strings so that he could float
Lit by lights, lifted by alcohol
Over acres of loving coast, far away from your lonely ghost
Now he's cool and all, floating anchorless. Ports of call
Where it's fabulous, after all of this watching himself just crawl
Think you see him? He's not there, that's just light that's not yet dead
Wait two hours and watch what'll be there instead
Was he small and cold, like a ring you call up from home
Held so tightly his limbs went numb, worn away between your finger and thumb?
Well, now he's bought and sold. Cry his call number down the phone
He can't hear you - he's on his float, waving down to the folks at home
Think you see him? He's not there, that's just light that's not yet dead
Wait two hours and watch what'll be there instead
As the cameras love all of his faces
They hide all the traces of you in his heart
Stand in line to hold forth on his grace
But you won't even get a head-start
Get a head-start
As his close-up comes cascading down from above
The eyes of a nation in love, they're looking on all of their hopes held up
And his words that some screenwriter counted and chose
Then set in their sequence and froze
Unfreeze on his tongue as he speaks for all of us
But one. And honey, he's gone
And baby, he's everyone's. In the dark sky tonight
Cast your eyes on the dim light
That he will become. 'Cause, you're like everyone
Who thinks they see him
He's not there, that's just light that's not yet dead
Wait two hours
And watch what'll be there instead