| I've been digging this grave, but now that it's made | |
| I see that black is one hell of a colour | |
| Want to break out so I start to shout | |
| But the mortician's returned to his parlour | |
| Black hole | |
| Wrapped in my shroud upstairs, the music's so loud | |
| That I can't concentrate on my sorrow | |
| Let down my hair and find something to wear | |
| And then dance myself into tomorrow | |
| Black hole | |
| I'm in a hole here and all I can see | |
| Are these grey walls that are closing in on me | |
| Throw me a ladder, lend me an arm | |
| Beam me up Scotty, lift me from harm | |
| Oh why, why deep holes? | |
| Oh I love my holes | |
| Black hole | |
| If the weather would change these clouds might blow away | |
| And my body'd be wrapped up in sunshine | |
| I want out of this wind that is wearing me thin | |
| Blasting my flesh to the marrow | |
| Why deep holes? | |
| Why deep holes? | |
| Black hole |
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