The end

Now come one, Come all, To this tragic affair,
Wipe off that make up, For sin is to spare,
So throw on the black dress, Mix in with the lot,
You might wake up and notice you’re someone your not,
If you look in the mirror and don’t like what you see,
You can find out first hand what it’s like to be me,
So gather round ladies and kiss this goodbye,
And encourage those smiles, And then split you might fly,

Oooh,

Another contusion, My funeral track, Has my resignation,
A servulant lack, You’ve got front row seats to the penitent spot,
When I grow up I want to be nothing at all,

Yeah, Say yeah, Yeah, Come on,

Give me your hand in my hand, Tell me that your, Tell me that one day,
If you can hear me, Just walk away