There's mud on your velvet There's no place to hide You can't see through the eyeliner that's melting down your eyes You hear them getting closer as your breath disappears And the vines are getting tangled with the ankh in your ear But they're coming up fast They'll tear you in two Your fancy boots and makeup will do nothing for you
The sweat from your hairspray is making you cry You know the end result You're gonna die, die, die The frills on your shirt sleeve are caught in the brush The white foundation on your face is turning in to mush Your fake British accent disappears in your screams You trip and fall Your vinyl skirt's coming apart at the seams