I’ve been pro-vanity since I was ten. 

I picture altars in past the shutters-den 

Baby bottle didn’t choke 

there were no cherry lollipops, cherry lip smacker and I got off 

Marry money have a child, keep it pretty ugly as you eat sushi and drink cocktails. 



And I’m sick of your smile 

And I’m sick of your cake 

And I’m sick of your meaningless blather 

And I’m sick of your hair 

And I wish it weren’t there 

Maybe some night i’ll visit you sweetly 



There is no place I would rather be killed 

Than in my own backyard 

On my own propane grill 

And lolly didn't stop the little melancholy absence and I felt high so I ripped it off 

Money prices an unborn child it would be hated(?) 

But you should be wary of those thirty fall drops 



And I'm sick when I breathe 

And I wish you would leave 

At the very least have an abortion 

I don’t need a damn life 

And I don’t think it’s right 

For a woman to breed for attention 



I’ve been pro-vanity since I could know 

No one will ever care to see what I don’t show 

And momma didn’t lock and load it 

Secretly we see 

Could see a letter and withstood the shock 

Oh my daddy felt I knew and consequently 

Took control and took over the hope that was you 



And I’m sick of myself 

And I wish you could help 

If you want to you can pull out the ladder 

Oh, and it sounds so indulgent 

Amazing i’ve managed 

To keep you engaged for just four fucking minutes 

And maybe you’d be provanity