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The Golden Filter
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Syn
From the gloomy halls of Hades
Twelve girls are born of queens
No one to judge their tears
Kicked away from sleep
Always told no mother
It's gone now
You hate them
They're cold
But the star became alive
Dirty, pretty girls
Tears did not, stop them and
They wanted to sing and dance
and be happy
Pretty girls
Faces grow older
Begin to master secrets
Polished with deliverance
They took from life
Dirty, dirty girls
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Dirty, pretty girls
Sing and dance
Dirty, pretty girls
They sing and dance
Dirty, pretty girls
Through the glass of a dirty window
Making a space to look on through
There is dissolve in the falling apart
And will see at once the world at large
If you make a disease, will you tell her everything
Stopping them coming back for more
The dirty, dirty girls
Dirty, pretty girls
Sing and dance
Dirty, pretty girls
They sing and dance
Dirty, pretty girls
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