Sex-Eye-Make Up

Run around the chairs in your Sunday dress It's the best thing money can buy Or leave me on the stairs, with my feet in the air I think that I'm jazzy, like christ One more cigarette, and the car burns slow Burning like the body, waiting at home Throw out your teeth, and call all your friends Someone coughing, took away my breath Inches of glass, all shiny and new Screaming, laughing, fucks me to death One more boy, full of writhing white mice Rolls over again in a London disguise The blood bath woman, in room number one Sex-eye-make-up tonight She just woke up today She just woke up today to do as she's told Do you want to touch her? Run around the stairs in your Sunday dress It's the best thing money can buy Or leave me on the stairs, with my feet in the air I think that I'm jazzy, like christ