Down the rabbit hole We go As the flames grow higher For unbelievers Making mushrooms out of men 'Til she turns us back again
To a face of solid gold Solid gold Sycophantic fawners In double-quick time The beginning at the end 'Til she turns us back again
First, she'll pull your fingers off And then, she'll pull your toes And then, she'll steal the photos From your phone
(But you won't notice)
Our echo doesn't hear us Anymore Hanging on a cloth edge By its fingers Making mushrooms out of men That's okay, I guess If you like this kinda, kinda thing
This kinda thin, thin, thin, thin, thing These kinda mushrooms These kinda ripples These kinda ripples This kinda thin thing, thin thing, thin thing
Like this kinda thing Like this kinda thin, thin thing Like this kinda thing
Like this kinda thing Like this kinda thin thing Like this kinda thing Like this kinda