Filthy rich and fucked up good
Daddy’s little blue blood girl
Her ice cream laced with thorazine and sprinkles
Rocked to sweet oblivion with nembutal lullabies
She passed before the mirror showed her wrinkles

Girl on fire
Girl on fire

From Silver Hill to the Factory
In bandages and Gucci
Her fingers full of cigarettes and razors
Haute couture, syringes, Chanel, Vogue, Dior
Hermes, smack, amphetamine and tasers

Girl on fire
Girl on fire

In the sanatorium
Suffering from an excess of fame
Vaseline, electrodes and sodium pentathol to block the pain
To dull an acid flash back
A wild stampede of horses made of flame
A carousel of silver wigs spinning in the circus of her brain

Her lonely bones were winter
Once summer’s love had left
Orphan, martyr, It girl, artist’s muse
The longest limo picked her up
To drive her far past west
Her final sunset, beautiful as a bruise
Beautiful as a bruise

Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on fire

She wouldn’t wait for the colors to dry
She wouldn’t wait for the colors to dry
She wouldn’t wait for the colors to dry
‘Couldn’t wait for the colors to dry