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