There's mud on your velvet
There's no place to hide
You can't see through the eyeliner that's melting down your eyes
You hear them getting closer as your breath disappears
And the vines are getting tangled with the ankh in your ear
But they're coming up fast
They'll tear you in two
Your fancy boots and makeup will do nothing for you
The sweat from your hairspray is making you cry
You know the end result
You're gonna die, die, die
The frills on your shirt sleeve are caught in the brush
The white foundation on your face is turning in to mush
Your fake British accent disappears in your screams
You trip and fall
Your vinyl skirt's coming apart at the seams