Five a.m. on the bathroom floor from the night before,
do you find me dreadful?
What a shame such a sad disgrace,
Such a pretty face,
but she's not regretful.
Am I beautiful?
Am I usable?
It's killing time again,
put on your face and let's pretend,
these killing lights won't kill us all again.
Three a.m. on the city street,
When the air is sweet,
I have had my mouth full,
but it seems that outside the screen
such a pretty face often will look dreadful.
Am I beautiful?
Am I usable?