Women's Studies Victims

They had painted her face like a man's mistake

Like a mental state, gang-banging

A sad return to the eagle-shaped mirror

I'm the kind of mannequin that cheats and

Opens its eyes to the ladies of the spread

She took me home and spit in my drink

She spoke of Germaine Greer and Friedan

I didn't know what to think

I took her standing in the kitchen, ass against the sink

She draped me in a stoll, what kind?

I think Malaysian mink

Than threw me out into the snow, I waited for the bus

Up come some values voters screaming, are you one of us?

I said of course man, can't you see

I've got some text reconstruction? What does that mean?

No clue, it must be an illicit pentagram

What are you talking about? No clue

I check my shutter speed, my aperture, my domino

Can't focus, can't stop staring at the face I used to know

This life is not a prison, we are always free to go anytime

Chinese stars, Chinese stars, Chinese stars

My 'cuz had the rawest Chinese stars

I'm trying to interface

You met me at such a dismal point on the arc

I think I understand what you were saying

About the smiles of the skulls

The spastic face was the last one, our luck was white

I read it with my head open, only slightly cracked

Somebody will have to close it when I'm done

Make the most out of the visuals

While walking through the woods

I noticed someone had built a house

For nobody in particular

They want to destroy us, I know

It's time to penetrate their fantasy