There's nothing I can do, I guess, to feel less Over the weather, feet together, stuck in mess Maybe she's blue, I guess, but if she left would there be anything here? Just a dripping sphere, a lonely speck O no, no, if you keep on striking matches one day The splinters in your fingers will turn around and say O 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 O no, no, if you keep on striking matches one day The splinters in your fingers will turn around and say O 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 O no, no if you keep on marching tragic International shame The stupids were to blame O no, no, if you keep on striking matches one day The splinters in your fingers will turn around and say O you're terrible people and now you've got no corners left to turn No matches left to burn Sweet sweet terrible people, I saying that when the world gets turned to dust The music's gonna stop