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?'