It's in blood
I suppose
Breaking jars
I'm no good
As the prodigal son

And I know that you're mesmerized
You had a vision, made these laws
And sanitized, are we above desires
I miss him so

You are so fucked
It has begun
Revolution crawls
All over you
I was listening

You light up the sky
And scrape out your skull
Your lovely face
Will never be claimed thrice

And we're so unlikely to
Upon my wrists I bear the cross
My losses mount as I climb across the home
Of my own soul

I'll claim my prize
I don't exist
I am divine
A ghost with eyes

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): WILLIAM PATRICK CORGAN