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