(She became the servant of the moon) She represents with binocular eyes All of the London croud The affectionate zombies weep and cry Whenever she leaves town Abused and fucked up Under the knife Wearing a mini skirt Painting her lips in the museum of her stripes Where she worships how she hurts No one was waiting for her love She was the savior of the sun And through the thinnest needle Slipped into her cocoon Where she became the servant of the moon She was half starved up in her head With an inward gaze She could paint your portrait as you bled And expect your praise Like a desert spider She will burn Burn in the sky She is more beautiful then anything When she cries No one was waiting for her love She was the savior of the sun And through the thinnest needle Slipped into her cocoon Where she became the servant of the moon