Satellite

She looked like she learned to dance from a series of still pictures She's madly excited now, she throws her hands up like a tulip She looks like an illustration of a cocktail party Where cartoon bubbles burst in the air, champagne rolls off her tongue Like a second language And it should have been her biggest night The satellite looks down on her as she begins to cry All over the world at the very same time people sharing the same sorrow As the satellite looks down her darkest hour is somebody's bright tomorrow He pulled on a cigarette, in the crook of his first finger Felt the static electric charge of her perfect hour-glass figure As he undressed her with his eyes her weakness was his talent How could she know as she stepped through the lights, that her dress would become transparent And with his face pressed to the screen, he muttered words he'd never dare to say if she could see him All over the world at the very same time People sharing the same cheap sensation the thrill of watching somebody watching those forbidden things we never mention Chorus: The satellite looks down right now and forever What it has pulled apart let no man tether his own body to his dream, His dream to someone else Oh no, oh no. She went back to a pitiful compromise He'd go back to his family But for the matter of a thousand miles that separated them entirely In the hot unloving spotlight, with secrets it arouses Now they both know what it's like inside a pornographer's trousers And in a funny way it's anonymous, the satellite it blesses us and makes these