Savior of the Sun

(She became the servant of the moon)

She represents with binocular eyes all of the London crowd

The affectionate zombies weep and cry whenever she leaves town

Abused and fucked up

Under the knife

Wearing a mini skirt

Painting her lips in the museum of her stripes

Where she worships how she hurts

No one was waiting for her love

She was the savior of the sun

And through the thinnest needle slipped into her cocoon

Where she became the servant of the moon

She was half starved up in her head

With an inward gaze she could paint your portrait as you bled

And expect your praise

Like a desert spider she will burn

Burn in the sky

She is more beautiful then anything when she cries

No one was waiting for her love

She was the savior of the sun

And through the thinnest needle slipped into her cocoon

Where she became the servant of the moon