Pulp
Anorexic Beauty
Sitting alone on a cold bar stool
Your cold, hard eyes make me feel a fool
Pastel-white features, high cheek-bones
Scarlet-blooded lips and deathly tones

The girl of my nightmares
Sultry and corpse-like
The girl of my nightmares

Brittle fingers and thin cigarettes
So hard to tell apart, she hasn't spoken yet
You put your hand on mine, death white on brown
Those whirlpool eyes; well, I begin to drown

The girl of my nightmares
Erotic and skull-faced
The girl of my nightmares

Anorexic beauty, feather-weight perfection
Anorexic beauty, underweight goddess

Sitting alone on a cold bar stool
You're so hard to tell apart, she hasn't spoken yet
Pastel-white features, high cheek-bones
Scarlet-blooded lips and deathly tones
The girl of my nightmares
Sultry and corpse-like
The girl of my nightmares

Anorexic beauty, feather-weight perfection
Anorexic beauty, underweight goddess