It’s a stylish hell for our Jezebel
Through crowded rooms spawn tiny doors
A hairline crack in the porcelain mouth
She’ll desperately need to get through to you
And what she covets won’t be what she needs
These tiny doors lead to misery
But she’ll play the game until everyone sees
How to celebrate
How to truly feel the light

What do you want me to say?
What do you want me to be?
Does this devil look into you?
We’re disfigured for

Mantle men taut as green game board felt
Wheeze soliloquy, grin shiny white teeth
You’re the number and they’re the sum
At the end of the day, it comes to what they choose
As all the children make like elephants
See, we occupy our own time and space
But you’re still the number and you’re still the herd
It’s the glue that binds
And it never seems to break

What do you want me to say?
What do you want me to be?
Do your ghosts speak within you?
We’re disfigured for life

Don’t you see?
What would you rather be?
It’s a microwave
Slip into tombs
Kiss the sick, kiss the beautiful
As if the time we spend won’t be erased
It’s a vivid image burned into life
Scorched into names
Dance into the night
By your hand
You can mingle with the dead
Before you realize
No inner circles exist

What do you want me to say?
Oh, what do you want me to say?