All of seventeen Eyes a purple green Treated like a queen She was on borrowed self-esteem
She would do her dance A painful masquerade Spinning you into her web Along her vain parade
In her uniform Studded brass and steel Kissing napkin lipstick stains And smearing sincerity
Along her vain parade Along her veins
Time crept up on her She's early gray Her reflection looks concerned And flowers hit her graveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
