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As you lie there on your bed |
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Beneath the face of Louise Brooks |
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With your makeup and your teddy bear |
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And your C.S. Lewis books |
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Bad seed |
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You're a bad seed |
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You're a decadent in chrysalis |
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Waiting sleepily to emerge |
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When you'll visit every seedy need |
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Of your random obsessive urge |
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All the ruses that you use |
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All the food that you refuse |
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All the dust and tired air that feeds Interior Lulus |
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All the poisoned attitudes |
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And the lust for the unknown |
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And the second best that devils use |
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To make this world their own |
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Interior Lulu, Interior Lulu, Interior Lulu |
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Every rainy day by e-mail |
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As you lie there on your bed |
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Another virtual page arrives |
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There will be times when you remember me |
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Of the chapters you'll be writing |
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As the voices echo in your head |
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In the book called wasted lives |
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As you read Henry and Anais |
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All the lost weekends and booze |
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All the finger-and-thumb screws |
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All the sleepless worn out blues that bruise Interior Lulus |
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Interior Lulu, Interior Lulu, Interior Lulu |
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Use the anger |
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Paint a picture of it |
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Throw the colors |
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Use the pain, use the pain |
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Scream back a brand new emotion |
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As it runs across the skin |
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Fire across paper |
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Burn and curl, burn and curl |
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You thought you couldn't feel like this |
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But it's happening again and you're waking up in pain |
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Tattooed in that private place |
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Microsoft and tears intimately pierced |
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Discovering and remembering |
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You felt like this somewhere before |
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Stirrin' up the bed of the river |
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Somewhere you don't like to go |
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You wrote this down so many times |
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But you get up anyway and you write it down again |
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You've bored us all to death with this |
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Well who you gonna tell |
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When you've nothing left to sell |
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She says, she's lonely |
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She says, she knows me |
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But she's a one-way street |
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She told me what I already know |
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"If you can carry it out you can take it away |
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If you can carry it out you can take it away |
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If you can buy it, it can be bought |
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If you can buy it, it can be stolen |
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If you can break it, it's already broken |
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It's already broken, it's already broken" |
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Lately, I can stand to hear other people talking |
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So many empty conversations |
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What a waste of lips |
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Lately I can stand to stand on Primrose Hill |
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Look down upon the city |
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A heart pumping the roads |
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In our racing stripes |
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We rejoice at being connected |
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Without touching, thank God for the internet |
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We stare at our screens all our lives |
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What a waste of eyes |
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'Till the electrical storm blows our fuses |
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And we gaze, dumbfounded, at the rain |
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All the trust and tired care |
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Left to rust and go nowhere |
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All this gold beneath my skin |
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Sparklin' like sin somewhere within |
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In so deep, in so deep, in so deep |
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That I can't sleep for these Interior Lulu |
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These Interior Lulu, these Interior Lulu lu lu lu lu lus |
