| She wears sunglasses to hide the mirror in her eyes
|
| Keeps rocks in her backpack, she gets dizzy when she flies
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| Her heart is made of flowers and her hair is made of straw
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| She’s never shown her metal bones since all the neighbours saw
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| She is made of starlight and she does not understand
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| Why Mama said she can’t be in the marching band
|
| Knuckles bruise, blood runs white
|
| Rap on the glass, you’re a specimen
|
| Knuckles bruise, blood runs white
|
| Rap on the glass, you’re a specimen
|
| Every damn night she’s lying awake
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| She’s got no love, they all say she’s a fake
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| Water will rust up her pipes, recycled from the factory
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| And she’s never shed a real tear, no she’s just an actor she
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| Keeps her mind locked up tight
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| She wears the keys on a chain
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| She won’t speak a word, don’t bother asking her name
|
| Knuckles bruise, blood runs white
|
| Rap on the glass, you’re a specimen
|
| Knuckles bruise, blood runs white
|
| Rap on the glass, you’re a specimen
|
| Knuckles bruise, blood runs white
|
| Rap on the glass, you’re a specimen |