Another morning, painted silver on my eye
Not for the beauty
Only for a poor puffed blue eye to hide
Every morning, when I look at my mirror
Own bare hand ruined my face
Feed with rouge on my pale-face to taste
Next afternoon, recovering my lips with gloss
Being dirty, when they pushed
Being pulled, when i'm lost
After afternoon, standing in the red light street
My mask still fresh for tonight
So many guys circling my heartbeat
Full evening, stoned mans and cried mascara
The bed may have a warm fur
But when it's my turn to prosper
Time to say goodbye to the boys in the pub
Time to strip my make-up