My teeth are chattering. 
No speck of oxygen in my lung. 
The air is thin. 
Around me is all infinity.

They circle the ground and stare at the sky for my fall. 
No one else was dumb enough to climb it at all. 
I follow the smoke, dropping [bad word] as a joke 
but they're not really a joke

Does it matter? 
Does it matter at all?

They only built the start... 
forgot the counterpart, there's no end. 
Too late to turn around... 
I'd never reach the ground

May as well keep [bad word] 
and follow lines past the sun, 
on to other stars, 
and maybe I'll pass through one. 
Till the day [bad word] when I can't move a thumb, 
following the trail of [bad word] 

Does it matter? 
Does it matter at all? 
Nah.