Stadiums and Shrines II

Can I lift my dress up for you?
Can I lift it in the night?
The white undersides of my thighs look much better
In the dying light
There’s a kid in there
And he’s big and dumb
And he’s kinda scared
And he's, well, he’s too old to be there
He’s just looking for a ride

And I’ll lift it to the ceiling tiles
Of stadiums and shrines
You see something to cheer about
I’ll tell you that it’s mine
I’m sorry that your mother died
But that one wasn't my fault
And I’m sorry anybody dies at all, these days

So hold out all your knives away from my eyes
Hold out all your knives away from my eyes