Lyrics to Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Slut
I tell you it is a shame
How they've achieved the fame
Why they are known so well
I'd like them to rot in hell
Charisma, it's overrated you need
Sex appeal, so artificial and a
Company, to advertise you for the
Compensation, of your lack of Talent
Enhance your
Boobies size, they have to wobble and your
Lips so full, show us your fish mouth get some
Plastic hair, so natural blonde and get your
Body waxed, cause hair's not here for pussies
The story of the ugly duckling, turned into a nightmare of
Constant scalpel penetration and the search for beauty desperation
Stars created on the paper, sick perversions of themselves
Their self-chosen aberration, exploited beyond mutilation
Sexual arousal is the key ingredient to get the boner-vote to lead you to the fame
So rub that pussy right into the camera and shake that bootie for the teenage boys
But fake to be so prude and faithful to satisfy your Christian fans
Create that insane schizophrenic struggle for public acceptance
Whore to the fame a live suppressing shame for what you turned into an erotic slave to the hormones of those horny boys
Crawling Age, your enemy, fighting
Time, it's unwinnable, so you
Break, slowly apart, you will
End, in shameful isolation
Cry for suicide
Cry for suicide
Long gone is your pride
You've been dead for a long time
Look back on life and try to recognize who you once were
Look into a mirror and find a glimpse of your reality
Scream in total devastation you earned it good you stupid cunt
There shall be no pity for you, now end that ugly travesty - that's you
Gone, no one noticed, all that's
Left, some nude pictures, for the
Boys, to jerk off to, they don't
Bother, who you were
Your rotting corpse
Will be gone; but not the
Plastic, you put inside you, or the
Fake Hair, it's not degradable, your
Coffin, will be filled with plastic
The cycle is constantly running, the next slut is waiting in line
To be formed to the sexy mutant, no talent but her rack is fine
The horror show called entertainment, the gears of fame that mangle hard
Pride and confidence erased, deserved by them who crave to be a part
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Slut Video:
How they've achieved the fame
Why they are known so well
I'd like them to rot in hell
Charisma, it's overrated you need
Sex appeal, so artificial and a
Company, to advertise you for the
Compensation, of your lack of Talent
Enhance your
Boobies size, they have to wobble and your
Lips so full, show us your fish mouth get some
Plastic hair, so natural blonde and get your
Body waxed, cause hair's not here for pussies
The story of the ugly duckling, turned into a nightmare of
Constant scalpel penetration and the search for beauty desperation
Stars created on the paper, sick perversions of themselves
Their self-chosen aberration, exploited beyond mutilation
Sexual arousal is the key ingredient to get the boner-vote to lead you to the fame
So rub that pussy right into the camera and shake that bootie for the teenage boys
But fake to be so prude and faithful to satisfy your Christian fans
Create that insane schizophrenic struggle for public acceptance
Whore to the fame a live suppressing shame for what you turned into an erotic slave to the hormones of those horny boys
Crawling Age, your enemy, fighting
Time, it's unwinnable, so you
Break, slowly apart, you will
End, in shameful isolation
Cry for suicide
Cry for suicide
Long gone is your pride
You've been dead for a long time
Look back on life and try to recognize who you once were
Look into a mirror and find a glimpse of your reality
Scream in total devastation you earned it good you stupid cunt
There shall be no pity for you, now end that ugly travesty - that's you
Gone, no one noticed, all that's
Left, some nude pictures, for the
Boys, to jerk off to, they don't
Bother, who you were
Your rotting corpse
Will be gone; but not the
Plastic, you put inside you, or the
Fake Hair, it's not degradable, your
Coffin, will be filled with plastic
The cycle is constantly running, the next slut is waiting in line
To be formed to the sexy mutant, no talent but her rack is fine
The horror show called entertainment, the gears of fame that mangle hard
Pride and confidence erased, deserved by them who crave to be a part
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