Norma Jean
She had heart
She got peroxide in a bottle
Now she got secrets
There's a dead Hollywood party and you're invited
Make sure to wear the red satin
We'll dance atop cars under ambiguous lights
We'll practice asphyxiation, auto-******
We'll barter dimples and dime-holes
With a chalice in each hand
As we listen to the blue-breasted robin
And the candy-colored clown
And through the foggy mist
We'll be the first to witness
The churn and burn of the star factories