Black star

i get home from work and
you’re still standing in your dressing
gown
well what am i to do?
i know all the things around your head and what they do to
you.
what are we coming to?
what are we gonna do?
blame it on the black star
blame it on the falling sky
blame it on the satellite that beams me home.
the troubled words of a troubled mind i try to understand
what is eating you.
i try to stay awake but its 58hrs since that i last slept with
you.
what are we coming to?
i just don’t know anymore.

i get on the train and I just stand about now that i don’t think
of you.
i keep falling over i keep passing out
when i see a face like you.
what am i coming to?
im gonna melt down.