As much as I would like to blame
the time of month, this filthy game
the powers that be, the stench of gin
I alone am responsible for the cave-in
the weight of the earth, the smell of smoke
the consequences are no joke
the air is getting foul in here
the end of it all seems quite clear
I’m hoping it is just a small one
but history says this attempt’s done
I try to come up with the rules
the way to beat the odds the tools
to dig my way back out of it
out of this darkness up from this pit
but tomorrow’s tale is hidden
I must go where I am bidden
I must go and keep my silence
hope the thing won’t end in violence
You can read an explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
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