It must be glamorous to live in cigarette smoke.
It must be an honor to be covered in ash.
The drama and danger must be the attraction,
a little kiss from death, and all the magic happens.

The papers must be nice, all tied with little fables,
while the parties must be fun, with drugs on all the tables.
The girls trap boys beneath their fishnets,
and the boys tie another notch to their belts.

They all love to live on rims,
and once it's too hard, they want ledges.
Oh, how glamorous it must be to live like the empty,
with the shallow and shells and depression.

They all want a taste of death on their lips,
and a bottle of liquor for their palms.
It's just taking an extremity,
and living it 'til it's all they are.

Enjoy all the falsities.
This isn't the silver screen.
Once damage is done, the smart grow dumb,
and that's how the pretty die young.