It's six o'clock and the golden hands in her wrist have faded the night away
One more drop of sucsess into the vein or five, as Marilyn did
Guess how many Mary Quant she would waste to make you take her home
I'm sure that she couldn't be the best sex that you ever, ever had
But she looks like, she looks good!
When fashion fades you are kicked to space
When fashion ends...
When the fifteen minutes pass you are shot to space
And they won't give you time to comb your hair
So don't forget to match your purse
I've read about it, the space is blue
There are two tar tear drops falling down from her anorexic face
But while she falls asleep she prays: "Lord Warhol, Hallowed by your name"
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE, boy, but she prefers SIMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
The copy number sixty six from a Twiggy line
Do you wanna be like her?
She's a blur, she's a lie!