[Incomprehensible] the broken toys are scattered in the attic
And the newspapers play in the words of the fanatic
And the greeting cards are your most poetic lyric
And the flat champagne is a sweet sugar syrup

I wanna paint you with glitter and with dirt
Picture you with innocence and hurt
The shutter closes, exposes the shot
She says, "Are you looking up my skirt?"
When you say, "No", she says, "Why not?"

I wanna girl to turn my screw, to wind my watch, to buckle my shoe
And if she won't, her mother will do, 'cause when she does as she's told
We'll all turn platinum and gold

But when she sits on my knee, I hear her whispers to me
"Can't you see? I could be your spooky girlfriend
I could be, I could be your spooky girlfriend"

"I could be, I could be your spooky girlfriend
I could be, I could be your spooky girlfriend
I could be, I could be your spooky girlfriend"