Pixie Jane Lyrics

Shadow box with perfect sound
Pick up the blue, follow through
A cinematic experience
From the gut I ask you
Who's the blackest of them all?
And is he 65 or not at all?

Pixie Jane
Still comes through
Works for money
Gives to you

And I can tell the clothes she wears
Her laughs are punk rock insecurity
Is she a Belly or a reject
By her own design or need?
Design or need?

Never real
Always true
More than sure
To see you through

And there's a game we like to play
It seems to me explains away
The need to shoot an arrow at some angel face
We all refuse to see

Hey there little Lucifer
Your matchbook burns, your friends all call you
By your second name, that's it!
A new identity
Now reason
Drugs
Drugs