White Fashion

Janice she cried
Fell into a deep sleep
She’s already gone
With no words to cheat
And bumped into real life
As all the gates fail
To keep the dawn inside
To get us insane

Janice fell apart
In towers of need
She’s looking for lipstick
But the road remains green
Locked in a city grave
Holidays never come
Or is just a mere entertainment
To forget you’re alone ?
Bombs are only on TV
And fists never gain
It’s always the same numbers
That you vote for on chain
Bombs wait in the bitch show
Pieces of my dear niece
Pieces of your fake sorrow
Standard living bleeds
And all in a tiny box
Leather straight necklace
Hopes fucking the last chance
To see the true face
Of a dieing somalian
Of a unsmiling queen
When fashion is in Britain
Paris licks the bling