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