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They ask for more
What do you think this fan club is for?
I slithered up each rose corridor
I kept a warm safe place in my core before I lost it

They ask for blood
What do you think this woman's made of?
I stuck a small thin pin in my thumb
They dreamt a low long line to be crossed and I crossed it

I'm alive but a different kind of life than the way I used to be
I retire to a split white smile to be seen in some old, stag magazine

And this girl's eyes
When they were roughly wrenched open I
Could see a starry stair up your thigh
You hid behind your hair, oh, but I saw you smiling

While all these guys, all these curious sets of eyes safe behind a TV screen
I let them pry, pick apart and hang out to dry almost every piece of me

If you don't love me, I'm sorry

Oh, what a trip
Oh, what a shimmering silver ship
Oh, what a hot half-life I have lived
Oh, and the stripes and stars how they stripped off the siding

When my life ripped
All from the part that played as a kid
Into the part that blazed through your lips
To find a warm, safe place then to sit curled up inside it

So here's goodbye from the part that's staying behind to the part that has to leave
To the sublime lips that were never spoiled by lying to the face inside the being
Who wasn't me, who wasn't me oh-no-no, she's, she's not me oh-oh

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