I wear my patent leather shoes and my golden fleeces. A feather in my hair for you, and then I fall to pieces at your celebration, celebration, celebration, celebrate you. We're quiet as two mannequins feasting on silences. we wait for Christmas to begin to see the cracking faces I tip my glass and toast to you. the blood spills on the carpet at your celebration celebration, celebration celebrate you. And in the dream you held a gun. you killed off all who hurt you, and left me there, the only one who would not dare desert you. I'm safe here growing in the shade, away from all your brightness. I lost my innocence today when I learned how to write this. Tonight my nightgown is in knots. I toss and turn in your honor I'll never know just what I've got as long as you're my father. and I'll keep searching here for you. I'll clean up, every corner. it's not my fault it's not my fault (celebrate you) it's not my fault (celebrate you) it's not my fault (celebrate you) it's not my fault.