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!"