Young, captive eyes
Are your demise.
That painted smile
Holds no disguise.
All constant glare,
All stop and stare,
Publically aired and telvised.
Caught in a daze
Of yesterdays,
Hides a child,
The lions prey.
She keeps a tower,
Her only power,
To stage her pain as a ballet.
So don't you wana,
Don't you wana come see the show?
'Cos Sudsie's a goner,
The dieties want her,
They'll take her like they took the great Van Gogh.
And weren't you guna,
weren't you goin to
End this turmult?
Well it's a little too late for a quick fix
And you'l probably die trying to adhere to all her faults.
The dents and creases
In her hands
Show the life
That she had planned,
Tainted by the years
She's lost
And the memories
She never can.
Under the hood
Of the untruth
Lies an angel
In a nouse,
No sanctuary
In blasphemy,
No sympathy
Can be induced.
So don't you wana,
Don't you wana come see the show?
'Cos Sudsie's a goner,
The dieties want her,
They'll take her like they took the great Van Gogh.
And weren't you guna,
weren't you goint to
End this turmult?
Well it's a little too late for a quick fix
And you'l probably die trying to adhere to all her faults.
One Somewhat arcane note,
We need the anethmatised to keep our sordid lives afloat (X2)
(guitar)
And weren't you guna,
Wern't you goin to come see the show?
Sure, it's a little too late for a quick fix.
And you'd of probably died trying
To adhere to all her faults.
