Women's Studies Victims

They had painted her face Like a man's mistake Like a man's mistake Gangbanging A sad return to the eagle-shaped mirror I'm the kind of mannequin that cheats and Opens its eyes to the ladies of the spread She took me home and spit in my drink She spoke of Germaine Greer and Freidan I don't know what to think I took her standing in the kitchen ass against the sink She draped me in a stole (what kind?) I think Malaysian mink And threw me out into the snow; I waited for the bus Up come some values voters screaming, "are you one of us?" I said "of course man, can't you see I've got syntax reconstruction?" (What does that mean?) No clue It must be illicit pentagram (What are you talking about?) No clue I check my shutter speed, my aperture, my domino Can't focus, can't stop staring at the face I used to know This life is not a prison: we are always free to go at anytime Chinese stars, chinese stars, chinese stars my cousin had the rawest Chinese stars I'm trying to interface You met me at such a dismal point on the arc I think I understand what you were saying About the smiles of the skulls The spastic face was the last one Our luck was white I read it with my head open Or only slightly cracked Somebody else will have to close it when I'm done Make the most out of the visuals While walking through the wood I noticed someone had built a house for no bird in particular They want to destroy us (I know) It's time to penetrate their fantasy