Вступление:
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 58
hrs
Since that i
last slept
with 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
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?
What are
we gonna
do?
Blame it
on the
Black Star
Blame
it on the
falling sky
Blame it on the
satellite. I´m gonna melt down.