poor little rich girl
you sit just there
in your black leather chair
i laugh cynically; a poet
and i don't even know it
you're somewhat fazed. i smirk.
what sort of shrink are you?
you open your mouth
'who are you today?'
i'm jenna, rock chica
baroness of bohemian boho and belly rings
sassy lean curves in a short short skirt
striped tights are so next season
"what do you want to tell me?"
in france on tour
i left my guitar at home and was promiscuous
matt was off interviewing some poor little rich girl
slept with some hot fan
hands grasp legs lips tongues oh god
groping fumbling arching groaning begging
do that again yeah that thing you do
that thing, yeah, that oh god never stop thing
yeah, that thing
and it doesn't bother me one little bit
that it wasn't matt's hands between my legs
making me moan and beg like a high-class whore
not one little bit
can i go now? he's waiting.
that leather looks handcrafted
is it, doc?
you ignore my question. stop writing
i could be offended, you know
"who are you today?"
short skirt and long jacket
flip the skirts and make them drool
french-lace garter, ooh la la
i'm sexy, i'm cute, i'm popular to boot
who am i? just guess
"what do you want to tell me?"
i didn't mean to kick her out
i just told her she was being a bitch
she went to the others
now i'm the bitch
the rich bitch
i didn't mean to, doc
i want her to come back
but i can't back down now, can i?
then the wolves would be howling at my door
then it might be me lying defenceless
then the dynamite would be under my chair
i added lots of spite, doc
can i go now? my party starts in an hour.
the black is eye-catching
very old-school new season
you sit there in your beige suit
the red shirt doesn't work, doc
"who are you today?"
morning miss, madam, sir
can i help you have a nice day
why, that dress flatters you so nicely miss
flatters is right
here's my law
rate of being noticed is inversely proportional to attraction
glamour of dresses
sequins sparkles satin galore
fade into the mirrors dear
"what do you want to tell me?"
i only slipped a little
rip tear stitch hole split oh no
strings of shimmery pearls tear loose, floor sparkles
"i don't know who did it, but i'll find out"
management's accusing beige stare
sausage feeling, burst out of my skin soon
can i go now? i have to work
doc, can we put the blinds down?
it's so sunny in here
don't look at me, doc
"who are you today?"
i am onyx
this white shirt is so starched
tie is choking, red as blood
bottom to top, black white red
this dye stinks
no, i'm onyx, i'm not nemo
"what do you have to tell me?"
this is how it goes now, doc
flashing racing red and blue lights
i don't like these sleeves, they're too tight
why are you taking my tie? i want my tie
want my necklace tie belt bootlaces
don't like these tight white wristcuffs
don't like that dark purple bag of blood
don't like that video camera
mirror, mirror on the wall
who is the saddest of them all?
doc, i want to go home
i don't have any scars, not one
when can i go home?
that visitor's chair looks awfully uncomfortable
they won't let me out of bed, doc
they cut up my food for me
all the knives and forks are plastic
even the lamps have plastic shields
i know who i am today, doc
i don't need you to ask
i'm number 1800-MENTAL
it's a wristband, see, over my bandages
that's me
30 06 9- BOD, or is it OBD? ob-lah-da
no, it's not DOB, you're wrong
what comes next?
doc, i'm just another little mental patient
i'm a little girl in a whitewashed castle
where the labyrinth goes around forever
won't you please come get me out?
there's a girl across there who gets flowers
her parents bring them every week
i want flowers, doc
i want red roses with juicy green stems
they won't let you? i don't want thorns
i want roses, doc
won't you bring me roses?
won't you save me from the dark, doc?
hi doc
they let me out
no more bandages
no more roses either
do you know who i am, doc?
i'm the girl
who lets handsome boys' hands play under my skirt
standing pressed in a dark corner drunk on fumes
i work in an eveningwear shop
i ruin pearl-studded dresses
i tell my best friend she's a bitch
i don't apologise
i let the whispers roam and roll
i let her sail away from me
i have red roses without the thorns in my room
in an empty crystal vase, doc
can you tell me why they wilt and die?
i slice my arms with razors, doc
i'm old-school emo with a thin red tie
i like pictures of black roses
but the red ones are better
i wear pearl earrings, doc
chicas don't
bimbos don't
emos don't
mental patients don't
only poor little rich girls wear pearl earrings
hello, doc. i'm poor little rich girl.