Self Help

I crossed myself a thousand times

But every prayer was still denied

On these nights, you lock yourself up

On these nights, you turn out your lights

The French have a word for this but the English,

they don't need one

Our lives are a cruel trap

Our world is a black map

This is the last time you'll help me

You told me that and I hung it around my neck

You gave me warning after warning

I cried wolf so, I get what I get

I'm a long way from home

and a storm's coming in

I'll fold up like a moth

But I will never ask for anything

"Don't be a stranger," she said

the last time I saw her

I never saw her again

"Don't be a stranger," she said

the last time I saw her

I never saw her again

This is the last time you'll help me

and after that I'm on my own.

And that's not a new thing -

I have years of experience,

of rented rooms where all the walls were painted asylum white.

I could've scribbled on those walls

and worked out all the answers but instead,

I kept all the equations inside my head

until they merged into the same question.

I've read everything - self-help - these books

with a bright, shining new day on the cover -

first half deals with how f***** up you are;

second half gives you all the answers

and it always seems so easy,

like it was staring you in the face the whole time

but you were looking the other way.

You were looking the other way.

I did not stand a chance

And now the blood is on your hands

I did not stand a chance

And now the blood is on your hands

I did not stand a chance

And now the blood is on your hands

I did not stand a chance

And now the blood is on your hands