|
And I will await your highness |
|
I'm so high I cannot walk |
|
And I will await |
|
You cripple |
|
You take away my pride |
|
My peace, my empathy |
|
No babies sleep on atrophy |
|
Your unborn love and fetal stress |
|
Hard bitter candy, legless caress |
|
What was she for Halloween? |
|
The ugliest girl you've ever seen |
|
Someday she will die alone |
|
What was she for Valentine's? |
|
An old forgotten concubine |
|
Someday she will die for no one |
|
She seems to me to know |
|
All that glitters is sour |
|
All the lies in her place |
|
Jesus saves |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
It's okay to kill your idols |
|
Just pretend you have no rivals |
|
We all know that she is friendless |
|
Spits at mirrors; it's not an issue |
|
Just remove the hateful tissues |
|
We all know her rage is endless |
|
She seems to me to know |
|
All that glitters is sour |
|
All the lies in her place |
|
Jesus saves |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
And then she begs and she says "Pretty please? |
|
I'll make her pure again; I'll make her clean" |
|
No one knows she's Hester Prynne |
|
Someone please tell Anne Boleyn |
|
Chokers are back in again |
|
Someday she won't have to fake it |
|
Living will itself seem sacred |
|
Someday she will just refuse |
|
She seems to me to know |
|
All that glitters is sour |
|
All the lies in her place |
|
Jesus saves |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
Old age |
|
Jesus saves |
|
Old age |
|
(Rest in pieces) I'm sorry |
|
(Me in pieces) So sorry |
|
(Rest in pieces) I'm sorry |
|
(Me in pieces) So sorry |
