The Music Was to Blame

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