Bjork. Desired Constellation. Zeneszám

It's tricky when you feel someone
Has done some sin on your behalf
It's slippery when your sense of justice
Murmurs underneath and is asking you

How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?

With a palm full of stars
I throw them like dice repeatedly
On the table repeatedly, repeatedly
I shake them like dice
And throw them on the table repeatedly, repeatedly
Until the desired constellation appears

How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?
And did you hear how am I going to make it right?

How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?
[Incomprehensible]
How am I going to make it right?
[Incomprehensible]