Lyrics
A delicate shell, a promising hell,
She breaths at the perfect angle.
Symmetrical face, resembling chaste
Her favourite shape is a triangle.
Ashen flesh with tattooed wrists,
Her god is a man named Gringolet.
If the truth is told, her heart grew cold
The moment she knelt and began to pray.
Cendrillon, a maiden born,
After death and not before.
Words as sweet as bergamote,
Masque complete, sweet to the core.
Fingers slight with a desperate touch,
Her feelings just as languid.
Eyes that spy but not too much,
All is held in banquet.
Musee Grobet-Labadie,
To look but not to handle.
To think about but not to say,
There's honour in the scandal.
Cendrillon, a maiden born,
After death and not before.
Words as sweet as bergamote,
Masque complete, sweet to the core.
Eyes in bloom, a restless hue,
A gamble for the pious.
If the pay is right, resist you might,
Any price is a tangle.
With words as sweet as bergamote.