| Lyrics: | You're turning, yeah I think you're really turning now
You're moving under the clouds in a Dior
gown
You're moving, yeah I think you're really moving now
You're spinning out of control
on the ground
It tears in the morning
It tears at the face that hides what you've
become
Just lipstick 66, cold hands moving
Walking with the upright beasts of your
choosing
Golden thread, I sold my soul for a bit of that golden thread
Golden
thread, I sold my soul for a kiss of that 66
Your midwestern smile of cool haystack
autonomy
Smash into the stare of the silent economy
It tears in the evening
It stares
at you from the bathroom mirror at night
Lipstick 66, everyone's staring
Watching for the
cue to destroy what you're wearing
Golden thread, I sold my soul for a bit of that golden
thread
Golden thread, I sold my soul for a kiss of that 66 |
