The Doll People

The doll people are not men They are made of ass and glass Our skin is clay and painted blue Our head can detach We are statues with a pulse We are art you can fuck The doll people are quiet What is there to say? Art does not interpret itself There are men with a day to save We are paintings with legs We are art you can fuck Drink the dolls Legs spread like butter We are wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother Oh, the beauty and the buyer, take the screaming one because A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than one that does Wife whore mistress maid mother Wife whore mistress maid mother The doll people are alive! Or so they say You can never trust Never trust the art these days To be admired takes precedence over admiring To be desired takes importance over desiring Drink the dolls Legs spread like butter We are wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother The beauty and the buyer, take the screaming one because A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than one that does Paint popping off us like rockets Stepped right out of a fantasy, the words still stuck to our pockets The beauty and the buyer, take the screaming one because A woman who doesn't want it is much hotter than one that does The doll people are gone They don't know what happened They looked under our skirts one morning But all they saw were maggots They bang their head on the wall They fucked the art on that afternoon The dolls are off laughing and running together Swimming in the milk of the moon Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother Wife, whore, mistress, maid, mother