Still lifes are failing
Too tight they hold their reins in
Look to the center of the tracks
They're lining up, the train runs faster
Still lifes are failing
Emaciated railings
Their pretty shapes and airbrushed skin
Positioned in the place to win
Wouldn't you like to be like a picture
Of a picture?
So alone!
Wouldn't you like to read like the
Scriptures of the glamoury?
Not i...
I'd rather be the part of a painting
Buried beneath the plastic sheen
Of a world that's made of pretty things
Buried beneath the plastic sheen
Is a world that's painted violently
Still lifes are failing
Too tight they hold their reins in
Look to the center of the tracks
Written lines, written laughter
Still lifes are failing
Emaciated railings
Their pretty shapes and airbrushed skin
Positioned in the place to win
Wouldn't you like to be like the picture
In a magazine?
So alone!
Wouldn't you like to read my
Description of the glamoury?
Buried beneath the plastic sheen
Of a world that's made of pretty things
Buried beneath the plastic sheen
Is a world that's painted violently
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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