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 hear
You can't hide it in your army coat
You've got the Miltown 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

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): DAVID WYNDORF