In the Audience squall song

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In the city I wait for the satellite to lift my words off to you.
Like a boxer youth or a Sunday school, I could stay outside the rules.
You wake time off your time, there's a little home inside the space.
Like a higher call or guilt terminal, I could wait until the Fall.
Be a vagabond, be overwrought, don't leave behind what you've got.
There's a little home inside the space.
Be the firearm, not the firebird, don't sick around for the final word.
There's a little home inside the space.

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN