Not going down in a ball of fire 
Just ’cause the wings won’t reach any higher 
And I’m the psychotic tripping in the aisles 
Sheet rain on the window pain 
Now at the bar, gnashing and gurning 
And never quite turning 
As the hostess turns to me and jokes: 
At least you’ve always got a good tale to tell 
When you die well

I keep crashing out and dreaming about 
Black African goddesses in white western underwear 
So there 
And when you say everybody is a star in the end 
Then the greatest starfucker’s your boyfriend who says
I’ve always loved the smell of your blood 
Don’t ask me why, I don’t try 
We’re so earthbound in every town 
And everybody’s got a right to a will to want to live
And a right to want to die

Please help us back on to our feet 
Escort us to the ejector seats

And I’m alive! I can’t seem to hide it 
Got people calling out my name and everything 
Death by chandelier 
She says Death by chandelier! 
It falls on my head and I’m dead 
And that’s how I want to die 
Don’t ask me why, I don’t try 
But if my lights are gonna blow 
Then that’s the end of the show 
The fuzzy end of the lollipop’s yours to suck 
I don’t wanna here anymore
And just don’t tell me the Fulham score

Please help me back on to my feet 
Reserve me the ejector seat 
Go away Go away 
Take me to Nirvana or Shangri-la 
And somewhere on my journey I saw everything

Not going down in a ball of fire 
A little man sitting on my shoulder 
Top hat and tails and he carries a folder 
And written within is a list of the men 
Who went down before me 
Am I not going down? 
It’s like Carry On Through The Clouds 
It’s like flying with Satan sharing the navigation 
And he keeps grabbin’ hold of the controls

Please help me back on to my feet 
Reserve me the ejector seat 
Go away Go away 
Fly me to Nirvana or Shangri-la 
Somewhere on my journey I saw everything 
Where the songs do grow 
And the flowers can sing