I get home from work And you're still standing In your dressing gown Well, what am I to do? I know all the things around your head And what they do to you What are we comin' to? What are we comin' to? Blame it on the black star Blame it on the falling sky Blame it on the satellite That brings me home Oh, the troubled word Of a troubled mind I try to understand How it eats at you I try to stay awake But it's been fifty-eight hours Since I last slept with you What are we coming to? I just don't know anymore Blame it on the black star Blame it on the falling sky Blame it on the satellite That brings me home I get on the train and I just stand about Now that I don't think of you I keep falling over, I keep passing out When I see a face like you What are we coming to? I'm gonna melt down Blame it on the black star Blame it on the falling sky Blame it on the satellite That brings me home