Vanity Fair
You’re not human
You’re a miracle
A preacher with an animal’s face
In your sexy
Neon smokescreen
Lie the supersalesmen of vanity
Even your shadow worships you
In you jungle solitude
With the orgies of the sacrament
And the seal of flagellants
You know God saves those who save their skin
From the bondage that we’re in
I’m elated
I could cut you
And remove the sheath of your ignorance
Bless the eunuch
And the Skoptsy
Will you hurt me now and make a million?
Say cheese, baby
We all love you
It’s a cheap world and you don’t exist
Slit the fabric of the right now
Spread your legs and wear the crown
Tell me how long, lord, how long?
‘Til I get my beauty sleep?
Now the hourglass is empty
The moment of my de-sexing
Cut it!
Cut it!
Cut, cut, cut!
Cut this cancer from my soul!