Cinderella smokes
Cinderella stares and exhales
Cinderella what a beautiful girl
memory loss is the salvation I desperately crave
the coin shows heads whichever way you toss
the damp night welcomes me into her arms
the creamy sky, it sighs and sheds a few tears
a tear for you, for me and for what we never used to be
a tear for every night I didn't spend in your bed
a tear for every day where distance grew in confidence
a tear for this crouched shadow hiding from me.
Cinderella's boots maltreat the spare stub
you look spacy while searching for a tree to jiggle
there's no shortage of choice, this forest is all yours
oh, it's all yours tonight
yet all the choices make you feel dizzy
and you sit down on the ground
to smoke a ciggy.
You always liked to read my gaze
guess all those pictures in my head
and watch all those fish floundering in your net
You light another and think about all
the milk cartoons you trashed
you're still squeezing the last drop out of me
wash me down your sink and smile and think
you probably got it all
and you probably did
I end up down your drain and mingle
with your last boy's ***** and your period blood.
Your place to rest is always the kitchen
my place to sleep, it's near your pillow
just six feet under
oh, six feet down I lie and close my eyes.
You believe life's just a laugh
I believe Eros will always get the last laugh
he waits for my desperation to reach boiling point
and then he spreads his wings and flies away
Oh, that's you
spread your wings and fly away.
Your last dream was a plushy ball
your dress was rose gold and my cheeks were just plain red
and your wings
they clung so firmly to your back
Oh, Cinderella, if you want a smoke, just take one of mine
I was born to swindle you, born to lie, born to deceive you
and you were born to never even notice.
The doves come land on the edges of your balcony
you ask for their help and they say yes and I melt
'cause I know the doves have never failed
and you'll see him and you'll smile and I won't be there
and you'll sign on the dotted line
he'll be yours for as long as you desire
and you'll be his for as long as you desire
Thunder roars approval
and from six feet under I wince objections
heard by no one particular.
It's fine for you, you'll sort the peas for 80 years
And I'll drink the sleet and breathe
Stairs of pitch will keep me in this prison underground
Stairs of pitch will discourage you from ever peeking down
Stairs of pitch jam the way to your mind
and you like the fact that your prince will now have to climb the window.
I'll dream of cutting off your toe and your heel
to stop you from ever fleeing me
and then I'll desperately sob
and when I wake up, I'll be six feet down
looking up to you and you'll ask:
'Care for a smoke?'