Title Track

[verse 1] All of the stage names evaporate And it's just a blood-flushed and heart-rushing race Either to kick off too soon or stick around too late To be far too dear or too cut-rate [verse 2] Hold my hand again like at the lake Hold that mirror, babe, up to my face Hear the whippoorwill? Am I breathing still? [verse 3] A Hollywood Babylon bike-a-thon for break-dancers all broken down in their beds Now intravenously fed from a bag hanging over their heads Can I put you down for some miles? What do you say? Cause don't you know it's going to be a long, long way But if you've got the cash, I'm ready to bust my ass [verse 4] So take this thin, broken-down circus clown reject And give her the name of a queen Don't I know her from the mezzanine? Well, she didn't look like no princess to me [verse 5] But with the proper words bestowed And with her morning shoot And her evening clothes Don't call her a prostitute She isn’t one of those Just call her a proper little statue come unfroze