Title Track

[verse 1]

All of the stage names evaporate

And it's just a blood-flushed and heart-rushing race

Either to kick off too soon or stick around too late

To be far too dear or too cut-rate

[verse 2]

Hold my hand again like at the lake

Hold that mirror, babe, up to my face

Hear the whippoorwill? Am I breathing still?

[verse 3]

A Hollywood Babylon bike-a-thon for break-dancers all broken down in their beds

Now intravenously fed from a bag hanging over their heads

Can I put you down for some miles? What do you say?

Cause don't you know it's going to be a long, long way

But if you've got the cash, I'm ready to bust my ass

[verse 4]

So take this thin, broken-down circus clown reject

And give her the name of a queen

Don't I know her from the mezzanine?

Well, she didn't look like no princess to me

[verse 5]

But with the proper words bestowed

And with her morning shoot

And her evening clothes

Don't call her a prostitute

She isn’t one of those

Just call her a proper little statue come unfroze