Im a barbie girl, in this barbie world It's fantastic, everyone's plastic You cannot feel me their Why do you think you can stop and stare ******* me with that, imagination.
I post daily, fooling everybody That I am perfect. It's horrific. Convorting myself into this typical dumb blond chartor.
Glaze upon my skin as it is flawless Little do they know it's stage makeup and filters I have many scars on the inside. I am starving, but cannot dream to take a bite Got to pretend that my body is perfect.
Im a barbie girl, in this toxice world I am drowning, but the waters plastic You cannot feel me their But you could not care ******* me quickly, it's fantastic.
Telling all the little girls thats i'm so happy And this is their dream life While hiding in the corner hating every part of myself. Somebody save me from this glitter nightmare.
I'm stuck inside this dollhouse The walls won't break They just dress me up, because my lifes a game But jokes on them, my blond is fake. I hate my pretty pink prison.
Im a barbie girl living in a hell world, It is honestly fantastic, no my heart is plastic You maze well touch me their and undress me anywhere Now I have realized no one really cares.
Yes im a barbie girl, living in a barbie world I am now an addict , it's fantastic No one want to stop and stare No one wants to feel me there When I'm washing down the pain with pills and drinks.
FLUFF: Frequently, I discover words with hidden meaning, shining like coins in a handful of fluff, apple seeds and other down-the-back-of-the-sofa leavings. Some are too precious to share and I secrete them away. Others I spend cheaply on rigged slot machine verbiage. Mostly they sit waiting to be written usefully. Adding insight, lending moment to my day.
NONSENSE: Foraging amongst the dahlias For Cinderella’s lost slipper, I am Barbie magic made manifest, I am Germaine (sodding) Greer’s antifem, I am Super Mum with gumboots on.
ABSURDITY: The best nonsense is always spoken in the middle of the afternoon while heading north on a train bound for a smallish beige town, and so it was that the occupants of second-class carriage BG1754 found themselves gripped by a kind of eloquent hysteria as they rattled around the final bend in the tracks before the steep descent to the weatherboard station at Claggy Peat.
‘The lampshade on my head is for my bright ideas. I won't be able to convey them until Monday, when my curtain gets out of the dry cleaners.’ - Bauvard, Some Inspiration for the Overenthusiastic
Perfect here perfect there perfect everywhere if this is what you want then I'll bye you the most perfect barbie doll in the world but by then you'll have moved on and sing a different song but my heart will groan and moan till I'm pretty plastic perfect.