Your skin is white porcelain, to clean

And your lips the sharpest red I've seen

Your skirt, you're shoes and the way you move...

Well I'm done for,

Drawn in by the music

Beating its way like fever into my skull.

The rest of us are thick fingered and dull

But you,

Oh you are bright and fast and intensity different

And I am stuck somewhere between

Affection and rage.

You don't deserve this early grave,

The masses obsession and disrespect.

We are petty, every one of us a fool

And you are kind.

But that's the price of being cool.