It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.

I only sleep with people I love, which is why I have insomnia.

I still own my heart, which I know because it hurts so much.

Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors...
Spices and and bold flavorings were created to mask the taste of putrid and rotting meat...
What then was music created for?
Was it to drown out the voices of others, or the voices within ourselves?
I think I know.

And falling's just another way to fly.

I'm not stupid. I know exactly what's going on, and I'm not fighting it. If I have to go through this, I will glean from it any small benefit I can receive. I will not fight this. Bring it on. Bring on the cure. Bring on the fucking happy. I'm committed.

Awareness is the enemy of sanity, for once you hear the screaming, it never stops.

Here you sit in your high-backed chair
Wonder how the view is from there
I wouldn’t know ’cause I like to sit
Upon the floor, yeah upon the floor
If you like we could play a game
Let’s pretend that we are the same
But you will have to look much closer
Than you do, closer than you do
And I’m far too tired to stay here anymore
And I don’t care what you think anyway
‘Cause I think you were wrong about me
Yeah what if you were, what if you were
And what if I’m a snowstorm burning
What if I’m a world unturning
What if I’m an ocean, far too shallow, much too deep
What if I’m the kindest demon
Something you may not believe in
What if I’m a siren singing gentlemen to sleep

I know you’ve got it figured out
Tell me what I am all about
And I just might learn a thing or two
Hundred about you, maybe about you
I’m the end of your telescope
I don’t change just to suit your vision

Thank god I’m pretty
The occasional free drink I never asked for
The occasional admission to a seedy little bar
Invitation to a stranger’s car
I’m blessed
With the ability to render grown men tongue-tied
Which only means that when it’s dark outside
I have to run and hide
Can’t look behind me
Thank god I’m pretty

Thank god I’m pretty
Every skill I ever have will be in question
Every ill that I must suffer
Clearly brought on by myself
Though the cops would come for someone else
I’m blessed
I’m truly privileged to look this good without clothes on
Which only means that when I sing you’re jerking off
And when I’m gone you won’t remember
Thank god I’m pretty

Thank you god
Oh lord
Thank you god

And when a gaggle of faces appears around me
It’s lucky I hate to be taken seriously
I think my ego would fall right through the cracks in the floor