I do not sing, but I will smile at you
as we pass by in solitary trance.
I’ve stolen something pretty, something blue.
You passed me by; you steal a second glance.
I feel you turn and wonder why my lips
are thin and dark, and why my face is drawn
so tightly. There’s a little girls that skips
within my soul. My soul is almost gone.
They’ll bury it some more with pills and spells
the way I push my prize beneath my dress.
But first they’ll cuff the bitch that always tells
on me. I’m pretty; she’s a fucking mess!
You think my eyes are pretty, I can hear
the way you kiss them as I disappear.
(Original)
I do not sing, but I will smile at you
as we pass by in solitary trance.
I’ve stolen something pretty, something blue;
you’ve passed me by, but stolen one more glance.
I felt you turn and wonder why my lips
are thin and dark, and why my face is drawn
so tightly. There’s a little girls that skips
within my soul. My soul is almost gone.
They’ll bury it some more with pills and spells
the way I push my prize beneath my dress.
But first they’ll cuff the bitch that always tells
on me. I’m pretty; she’s a fucking mess!
You think my eyes are pretty, I can hear
the way you kiss them as I disappear.