2 acessos
Now come one, come all, to this tragic affair
Wipe off that make up, for sin is to spare
So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot
You might wake up and notice youre someone your not
If you look in the mirror and dont like what you see
You can find out first hand what its like to be me
So gather round ladies and kiss this goodbye
And encourage those smiles, and then split you might fly
Oooh
Another contusion, my funeral track, has my resignation
A servulant lack, youve got front row seats to the penitent spot
When I grow up I want to be nothing at all
Yeah, say yeah, yeah, come on
Give me your hand in my hand
Tell me that your, tell me that one day
If you can hear me, just walk away