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constellations strung up like barbed wire, wire, wire
i'm drinking cement like it's going out of style, style, style
those cold hooks, cemetery claws
raking out the infants' jaws
set fire to the horse on fire!
set fire to the dress on fire!
set fire to the stage on fire!
set fire to the stars on fire!

now i'm tied to a seagull's back-yeah, fire, fire, fire
and all those black-haired bandits try to lure me down with their songs and choir, choir, choir
i'd rather shoot up a syringe filled with fire, fire, fire
than go to bed with sounds so vacant and tired tired tired

what's the sound of a cashing check?
what's the sound of a gag reflex?
like speakers crushed beneath an empty tank
blowing the ugly off an airbrushed face

set fire to the drums on fire!
set fire to the lions on fire!
set fire to the house on fire!
set fire to the face on fire!