Flys through the air with the greatest disease

Takes little pills and calls them trapeze

I know you're right

Everything you do is right

Everything I do is true



Bluebell to hell



Lo and behold a girl with a goal

Looks so old she's made out of gold



I want to live in the smallest corner of the densest mind of the

fuckmost room and sing the stars they swing from the chandelier strings.

You know who you are

You're dead meat motherfucker

You don't try to rape a goddess



You are so obvious