Testo: Hole. My Body The Hand Grenade. Old Age.

And I will awake.
Your highness, I am so high I cannot walk.
And I will awake.
You cripple, you take away my time, my peace, my empathy.
No babies sleep on atrophy.
Your unborn love and fetal dress,
my bitter candy fated caress.
What was she for Halloween?
The ugliest girl you've ever seen.
What was she for Valentines?
An old forgotten concubine.
Someday she will die for no one
She seems to me to know.
All the glitters gone sour.
All that lies in her place.
Jesus saves.....old age.
It's okay to kill your idols,
just pretend you have no rivals.
We all know that she's friendless.
Spits at mirrors, it's not an issue.
Just remove the hateful tissue.
We all know her age is endless.
She seems to me to know.

All the glitters gone sour.
All that lies in her place.
Jesus saves.....old age.
And then she begs you, she says, "Pretty please."
I'll make her pure again, I'll make her clean.
No one knows she's Hestor Prynne.
Someone please tell Anne Boleyn.
Chokers are back in again.
Someday she won't have to fake it.
Living---well, in itself seems sacred.
Soemday she will just refuse.
.
All the glitters gone sour.
All that lies in her place.
Jesus saves.....old age.
Rest in peace.....and I'm sorry.
Me in pieces....so sorry.
Rest in peace.....and I'm sorry.
Me in pieces.....so sorry.