I am a pain
In your ass
And I'm wonderin' how long it's gonna last
Be my mirror
Be my friend
Be the workhouse of the energy
I twist your arm to spend
Every day
Like a powerstation

Chorus:
You know it isn't good
You know you're burning too much wood
But when you burn out
The twisted irony is
Your ashes come home to me

Come home to me

So we take a walk
To make some sense
And I'm wondering if you fancy my defense
But I have pushed you
Way too far
And you say "fuck you, little Princess
Who the hell d'you think you are?"
Every day
Like a powerstation

Chorus:

Oh well, you know it isn’t good
You know you’re burning too much wood
But I said if you burn out
The twisted irony is
Your ashes come home to me
Come home to me
Come home to me
Ah well, your ashes come home to me
Come home to me
Come home to me
No other sucker gonna have them on the fucking mantelpiece
The mantelpiece
The mantelpiece