"High Orbit" tells the story of 2 people who have constructed a small, psychedelic paradise in the casino graveyard of their former passions.  They know better than to take their earthly circumstances for granted, and seem prepared, perhaps even willing, to leave.  When the apocalypse forces them to evacuate, they drive off into oblivion.

Are they consumed by a nuclear blast, or is it the Rapture that sends them into orbit?  Will they make it to the floating wedding feast, or are they anchored to the world by desire?

Will they heed the final warning, before it is too late?

High Orbit

Cruising through the circuit board
on pink electric streets
the palm trees are fireworks
of exploding purple ink

The sky is a raven's wing
the stars a thousand spinning dice
the moon is a roulette wheel
suspended in ice

Monkeys are swinging
from ornaments of doom
the smoke of my torment
curls around the room

Our love is like a ghost
back from the dead
rising from the ashes
where we lay our weary heads

     Cruising through the cemetery gates
     of my drive-thru heart
     it may not be the end of the world,
     but it's a start
     it could all be over in an instant
     but still it's good to see you again

We built our little paradise
of fairy dust and bones
our walls are made of gold
and fortified with ice cream cones

But the demons are returning
from the land of their exile
they're kicking up a cloud of dust
that's visible for miles

     Cruising through the frozen cemetery gates
     of my drive-thru heart
     it may not be the end of the world,
     but it's a start
     it could all come crashing down tomorrow,
     but still it's good to see you again

The ghosts of my ancestors
are spinning through the tires
if we don't run out of gas
we should be able to outrun the fires

I forgot to bring my body
I left it back there with my name
my heart is a monastery
going up in flames

     Cruising through the cemetery gates
     of your drive-thru heart
     it may not be the end of the world,
     but it's a start
     it could all be gone tomorrow,
     but still it's good to see you again

And then the highway dissipates
as our bodies turn to sand
the steering wheel evaporates
from my disappearing hands

We're flying into orbit
toward the floating wedding feast
through the cloud of mushrooms
rising in the east

©Nathan Payne