| We can plan a murder or start a religion
|
| Anything you want 'cause I don’t see you living enough
|
| No, oh no
|
| You paint pretty pictures 'cause you say you love me
|
| All your words look fiction when you say I’m lovely
|
| No, no, no more
|
| No, no, no more
|
| You said that we all sleep on you
|
| Think that you’ve got shit to prove
|
| Aren’t we lucky that we get to know you
|
| Talk, talk your talk that’s all you do
|
| Can’t you see, its so see-through?
|
| Mr. Cellophane I’m over you
|
| No more, no more
|
| No more, no more
|
| No, Jesus don’t wear thorns
|
| He’s got gold chains that he adorns on his neck
|
| Pull them closer, cut the check, oh
|
| Is the weight weighing on your chest
|
| Too much for the crown you try to
|
| Hold up on a broken head
|
| No, no, no more
|
| You’re better off dead
|
| You said that we all sleep on you
|
| Think that you’ve got shit to prove
|
| Aren’t we lucky that we get to know you
|
| Talk, talk your talk that’s all you do
|
| Can’t you see, its so see-through?
|
| Mr. Cellophane I’m over you
|
| No more, no more
|
| No more, no more
|
| No more, no more
|
| No more, no more |