3 acessos
There's nothing I can do, I guess, to feel less
Over the weather, feet together, stuck in the mess
Maybe she's blue, I guess, but if she left
Would there be anything here? Just a dripping sphere, a lonely speck
Oh no, no, no, if you keep on striking matches one day
The splinters in your finger will turn around and say
Oh you're terrible people and now you've got no corners left to turn
No matches left to burn
Sweet, sweet, terrible people, you said that when you burned out of your brain
The music was to blame
I'm mad at the world today cause she didn't say
To stop or go or leave me alone I'm not in the mood
Oh no, no no, if you keep on striking matches one day
The splinters in your fingers will turn around and say
Oh you're terrible people and now you've got no corners left to turn
No matches left to burn
Sweet, sweet, terrible people, you said that when you burned out of your brain
The music was to blame
Oh no, no, if you keep on marching tragic
International shame
The stupid were to blame
Oh no, no, if you keep on striking matches one day
The splinters in your fingers will turn around and say
Oh you're terrible people and now you've got no corners left to turn
No matches left to burn
Sweet, sweet, terrible people, I'm saying that when the world gets turned to dust
The music's gonna stop