You know what happens when models marry,
You're the kind of angel they produce
Pale creature more sad than savage,
Heaven knows you're fireproof
In an apartment with a dirty mirror,
You can still kiss your face goodbye

I want you, I need you,
I want your skin upon my skin
I want to, possess you,
I want to know where the hell you've been

You know what happens when models marry,
You're the sort of victim they let loose
Sitting on your own, it's tragic
That no one knows the awful truth
You see your little junkie friends all tell you,
That sort of beauty is a crime

I want you, I need you,
I want you confused and unable to stop
I want to, possess you,
I want to know what the hell you want

I want you, I need you,
I want your happiness and stars
I want to, oppress you,
I want to know who the f*ck you think you are