Girls Singing

Why does the rhythm get me every time?

It wouldn't if the girls all got along

And maybe I imagined that just like I imagine youWhere is the mirror? Get me to its face

So primitive and yet we all get it wrong

And what a very modern prince

Just like I imagine I know youOh my, my

Look what you've become It's the same for all of you

And then it catches up

And you notice what you're made ofOh my, my Look what you've become

It's the same for all of you

And then it catches up

And you notice what you're made of