Woman Photographer of the Year

The camera flash is wearing me thin

Joker smile, tectonic grin, always raining me in

Always something in the scene

Analysing Her and what the fuck does it mean

(Could you please explain, Joaquin?)

Snapshot intimacy

Calf-tight, fish-net hair

Debonair stare, beckons me to face care

Grace is in hard-wear shelling of a woman

Smash (fuck), bulb breaks in the oven

Bonny better, out in Tribeca

Out of sight, out of mind

On the shelf I unwind

I cheat the passage of time, with a delicate rhyme

I cheat the passage of time, with a delicate rhyme

Two feet short of eclipse

You seek the body like the glass, like a claw from the grip

Like a pause at the hip

Like I'm bored of the bit

Like I'm bored of the bit

And I don't know where to begin

And I don't know what to conceive

And I don't know who to believe in these plush-fuck leather seats

You're feeling the way I compare

The sun to the moon, the stars to your eyes

But I'm just an actress, and life, is the movie of my mind

And she's usually the type to keep the self-distanced

Seldom living her life

Caught her fishing for the keys of her discontent

In what I call the Seine, baby calling at a quarter past 10

Tears are the semi-event

With a little bit of background music, she's in Venice again

Can she rock on the river in a dress of design?

She's bleeding again because the bloody thoughts are still on her mind

Stunt double, sees the body in trouble

Sees the body in flux, sees the woman in us

Mr seven yards short of an inch

Mr. Man, Mr. look, fuck, touch and a pinch

Blonde lady, she's a mess she's a blonde baby

Miss May, may she ache daily

Pain fades to dark, fades to stark, fades to barefoot in the park

Him at the start with a clipboard to mark art

And I don't know where to begin

And I don't know what to conceive

And I don't know who to believe in these plush-fuck leather seats

You're feeling the way I compare

The sun to the moon, the stars to your eyes

But I'm just an actress, and life, is the movie of my mind

And I don't know where to begin (And I don't know where to begin)

And I don't know what to conceive (And I don't know what to conceive)

And I don't know who to believe in these plush-fuck leather seats

You're feeling the way I compare (feeling the way I)

The sun to the moon, the stars to your eyes

But I'm just an actress, and life, is the movie of my mind

Agh!, from the agh! Agh! Agh!

She gets a, agh! from the agh! Agh! Agh!

She gets a shock sharp shiver down the rough of the spine

She's a ghost cold river on a steady decline

She speaks of Marylin and luminescence

Harlequin that non-presence

Nicotine, cover dreams, tangible things like

Powder white wings, apples mid-string