Here it comes again
Taste of jagged glass and rusty can

There are just black holes
Where the stars would be watching
Just black holes
Where the stars should have been

Plumes of dirt
Caress a urine colored sun
Swarms of angels
Come to kill your sons

And there's nothing but black holes
Where the stars should have been
Nothing but black holes
Where the stars would be watching

Oh, those strange argonauts
Digging again in your pit
Cover them in menstrual stream
Cover them in black gold, plunge them into ingots

Ripping through your menstrual stream
Rising up taste of rusty can
And jagged glass feeling again

Here it comes again
Hordes of locusts blot out your sun

Raining down, rain on everyone
Poor little rich thing, poor little bleeding heart
Poor little misunderstood
Piss on it, I'm sick of it

Enough is enough
I wanna fuck it up
In spite of it

Just for the hell of it
I wanna fuck it up
Out of sync, out of phase
Out of sight, out of spite

Raining down, raining everyone
Poor little rich thing, poor little bleeding heart
Poor little misunderstood
Piss on it, I'm sick of it

Here it comes again
Taste of jagged glass and rusty can

There are just black holes
Where the stars should have been
Just black holes
Where the stars would be watching

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Peter Edward Clarke, Susan Ballion