Ejector Seat Reservation

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