Bluebell

Flys through the air with the greatest disease
Takes little pills and calls them trapeze
I know you're right
Everything you do is right
Everything I do is true
Bluebell to hell
Lo and behold a girl with a goal
Looks so old she's made out of gold
I want to live in the smallest corner of the densest mind of the
fuckmost room and sing the stars they swing from the chandelier strings.
You know who you are
You're dead meat motherfucker
You don't try to rape a goddess
You are so obvious