Bone China Face

Hey bone china face with a black space in your heart I got some magazines with a crossword you can start But what's that photograph jumping out across the page? It could be me, you think, any day now set to stage There's a face somewhere behind that powdered mask There's something moving in like a snake inside the grass What's your name again? Everyone here looks the same But in your reverie, you just lead in a hurricane And you say "Shoot me for your magazine Shoot me on the bedside table Shoot me in a restaurant restroom Follow the star!" You've got some nerve on you, coming 'round with your champagne In your leather boots, looking down like a bird of prey Hey bone china face, you could think that it's alright I'll take you dancing under tall trees in the night You're thinking "Shoot me for your magazine Shoot me on your bedside table Shoot me in a restaurant restroom Follow the star!" "Shoot me for your magazine Shoot me on your bedside table Shoot me in a restaurant restroom Follow the star!"