Lyrics:

A train moving out of the station, somewhere south of it
A satellite making connections somewhere over it
One makes a long lonely howl, one is silent
A new design waits to be launched somewhere west of it

Calling all cans on the go
This is mission control
Somewhere built below it

Pass that cup over here; this is boring
And I don't even do this anymore to believe
The nonsense I'm hearing
A certain amount of booze is all it takes to relax me
Then it's back to my parents' home in a taxi

Back to the place I belong
To the place I belong
Somewhere built below it

I am a science boy
I grew up on dinosaurs
A million different species of birds, and aircraft

This is the science of truth
Is the science of love
Is the science of it