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 starf**ker'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 s*ck 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