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, 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



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, 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