They ask for more What do you think this fan club is for? I slithered up each rose corridor I kept a warm safe place at my core before I lost it They ask for blood What do you think this woman's made of? I stuck a small thin pin in my thumb They dreamt a low long line to be crossed and I crossed it I'm alive but a different kind of alive than the way I used to be I retire to a split white smile to be seen in some old, stag magazine And this girl's eyes When they were roughly wrenched open I Could see a starry stair up your thigh You hid behind your hair, oh, but I saw you smiling While all these guys, all these curious sets of eyes safe behind a TV screen I let them pry, pick apart and hang out to dry almost every piece of me If you don't love me, I'm sorry Oh, what a trip Oh, what a shimmering silver ship Oh, what a hot half-life I half lived Oh, and the stripes and stars how they stripped off the siding When my life ripped Off from the part that played as a kid Into the part that blazed through your lips To find a warm, safe place and to sit curled up inside it So here's goodbye from the part that's staying behind to the part that has to leave To the sublime lips that were never spoiled by a line to the face inside the beam Who wasn't me, who wasn't me oh-no-no, she's, she's not me oh-oh