Oh little showgirl what do you need?
Pried upon by eyes of greed,
Strung up so pretty in veils of red,
Lying beneath are chains and dread,
You cannot be tamed,
Rest is for the dead,
Close the box and go to bed.
Spinning Outside for all to hear,
The box is solitude,
The box is fear,
During rotation you can perceive,
The effects of your captivity,
The hand that turns it thinks you'll flee
The mirror is truth and but the scars you can't see,
They turn the handle but you hold the key.
The unlawful tune is so psychotic,
This stage men built seems quite symbolic,
Your movements they rust and seem robotic,
I see your tears and they are hypnotic.
We'll pay you cash,
Just for a flash,
Your sorrow is like a narcotic.
Oh little show girl why do you spin?
In this dreadful world of sin,
Is there hope that you can win?
The song you wrote is yours to sing,
So sing it loud,
But don't be too proud,
The man you serve is not your king.
Oh little show girl hung up and flayed,
With skin so soft the red will fade,
If you are an item then how will you trade?
You've run out of flesh of which you've displayed,
They'll have their profit,
And you'll have your grave.
side-note : Ta Eve for some inspiration (bittersweet).