I lit the match, I lit the match
   I saw another monster turn to ash
   Felt the burning lifting from my back
   Do you recognize a nervous twitch
   That exposes the weekness of the myth
  
   When your turn comes round
   And the light goes on
   And you feel your attraction again
   Your instinct can't be wrong
  
   Seperate the fiction from the fact
   I've been a little slow to react
   But it's nearly time to flick the switch
   And I'm hanging by a single stitch
   Laughing at the stony face of gloom
  
   When your turn comes round
   And the light goes on
   And you feel your attraction again
   Your instinct can't be wrong
  
   Feelings come and go
   Where the true present lies in calling down
   We're calling down
   Calling
  
   Laughing at the stony face of doom
   When your turn comes round
   And the days get long
   And you feel your attraction to him
   Your instinct can't be wrong
  
   Calling down, crawling down