| The shape of a zodiac lung
|
| Is beckoning like a bad Christ
|
| It hovers above your head
|
| It’s pulling the world over my life
|
| If you don’t hear a word I’m saying
|
| You can’t cover it with your hair
|
| You can’t hide it in your army coat
|
| You’ve got the milltown demon stare
|
| You forgot all the letters that you wrote
|
| You can’t hear a word I’m saying
|
| No you can’t hear a thing at all
|
| When I die it’ll be because of you
|
| There I’ll lie and it’ll all point to you
|
| It’s fuck ups like you that always seem to take it all
|
| It’s fuck ups like you that never seem to go away
|
| The shape of the zodiac lung
|
| Is like the shape of the back of my hand
|
| And I’ll knock you across this room
|
| And I’ll bury my head in the sand
|
| You won’t feel my love type baby
|
| No you won’t feel a thing at all
|
| When I die it’ll be because of you
|
| There I’ll lie and it’ll all point to you
|
| It’s fuck ups like you that always seem to get it all
|
| It’s fuck ups like you that never seem to die
|
| I don’t know why |