 I’ve been pro-vanity since I was ten.
I picture altars in past the shutters-den
Baby bottle didn’t choke
there were no cherry lollipops, cherry lip smacker and I got off
Marry money have a child, keep it pretty ugly as you eat sushi and drink cocktails.
And I’m sick of your smile
And I’m sick of your cake
And I’m sick of your meaningless blather
And I’m sick of your hair
And I wish it weren’t there
Maybe some night i’ll visit you sweetly
There is no place I would rather be killed
Than in my own backyard
On my own propane grill
And lolly didn't stop the little melancholy absence and I felt high so I ripped it off
Money prices an unborn child it would be hated(?)
But you should be wary of those thirty fall drops
And I'm sick when I breathe
And I wish you would leave
At the very least have an abortion
I don’t need a damn life
And I don’t think it’s right
For a woman to breed for attention
I’ve been pro-vanity since I could know
No one will ever care to see what I don’t show
And momma didn’t lock and load it
Secretly we see
Could see a letter and withstood the shock
Oh my daddy felt I knew and consequently
Took control and took over the hope that was you
And I’m sick of myself
And I wish you could help
If you want to you can pull out the ladder
Oh, and it sounds so indulgent
Amazing i’ve managed
To keep you engaged for just four fucking minutes
And maybe you’d be provanity
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