La Fille de Joie

I was the girl of the air
You were the joy girl
A lady who knew how to play
I don’t love you
I spit you out and I’m proud of it
You, the bitch
Six feet under

No matter how you whine, I don’t love you
In the palace of the air girls
We refuse all girls like you
The pretty things, you’ll have to deal with it
In your grave, they don’t exist
Those pretty things of the voiceless girls
When you touch them, you burn your fingers
They’re on you and you dream of them
They’re in front of me and I’m dying
Tell me, is it better down there?

Down there, I found my father
Down there, I found my mother
We’re all eaten away by worms
I don’t love you
You succeeded and you’re proud of it
Finally, you have the chance to shut up
You can leave, I don’t love you

In the tombs of the air girls
We laugh at girls like you
The pretty things, we dance with them
And our gray days are worth more than your trances
Those pretty things of the voiceless girls
When you touch them, you burn your fingers
They’re on me and I dream of them
They’re in front of you and you’re dying
But you, it’s me

Their pretty things were both of us
Everything we did was for them
So let’s burst the monsters
Under their shit, there were our dreams
I’ll put gold in our eyes
So we’ll never be afraid of them again
Their pretty things are death
Now Lucy, sleep.