As you lie there on your bed Beneath the face of Louise Brooks With your makeup and your teddy bear And your C.S. Lewis books... Bad seed... You're a bad seed... You're a decadent in chrysalis, Waiting sleepily to emerge. When you'll visit every seedy need Of your random obsessive urge.
All the ruses that you use, All the food that you refuse, All the dust and tired air that feeds Interior Lulus... All the poisoned attitudes And the lust for the unknown And the second best that devils use To make this world their own Interior Lulu... Interior Lulu... Interior Lulu...
Use the anger, Paint a picture of it, Throw the colours, Use the pain, use the pain...
Scream back a brand new emotion, As it runs across the skin, Fire across paper Burn and curl, burn and curl...
You thought you couldn't feel like this, But it's happening again and you're waking up in pain, Tattooed in that private place, Microsoft and tears, Intimately pierced.
"If you can carry it out you can take it away If you can carry it out you can take it away If you can buy it, it can be bought If you can buy it, it can be stolen If you can break it It's already broken"
Lately, I can stand to hear other people talking... So many empty conversations, What a waste of lips.
Lately I can stand to stand on Primrose Hill, Look down upon the city, A heart pumping the roads.
In our racing stripes, We rejoice at being "connected" , Without touching, Thank god for the internet.
We stare at our screens, All our lives What a waste of eyes, 'Till the electrical storm blows our fuses And we gaze, dumbfounded, at the rain...