Lyrics Nightsift - of Montreal

Burn out ideas, repetition is key to madness, abduction
Four puffs makes me a cartoon
An expressionlessistic surveilled artist, okay
There's no human pain in my voice, it's something else's
What if she's just a conversation I am having with myself?

Put me on a pedestal, I'm wasted
You can be so creative with refuse
Only fame can make someone a has-been
She sleeps with her fans 'cause they are faceless
Oh, knowing someone's name makes it feel sleazy
Being seen is actual self-mutilation

Son of cemetery shopping wives only titter at
Rare mouth cuisine of single fake eye
The triplets of migraines bathe in menstruation
Pools, towels stay white, wow, it's magic

Sword play gives girls periods, I'm joking
The anti-form pervert bites his pillow
His stomach orgasms in black plasma
'Cause the stalker knows no nuance

Put me on a pedestal, I'm wasted
We can be so creative with refuse
Only fame can make someone a failure
She sleeps with her fans 'cause they are echoes
Refractions of raw sketches of pleasure
Being seen is actual self-mutilation

Now he bites his weapon to do self-care publicly
It's suction time being the fuck of the funeral
Compete for my love, be so dumb, be so sweet
She's my only exalted one

Christina