Women’s Studies Victims ​of Montreal

They had painted her face
Like a man's mistake
Like a man's mistake
Gangbanging
A sad return to the eagle-shaped mirror
I'm the kind of mannequin that cheats and
Opens its eyes to the ladies of the spread

She took me home and spit in my drink
She spoke of Germaine Greer and Freidan
I don't know what to think
I took her standing in the kitchen ass against the sink
She draped me in a stole
(what kind?) I think Malaysian mink
And threw me out into the snow; I waited for the bus
Up come some values voters screaming, "are you one of us?"
I said "of course man, can't you see I've got syntax reconstruction?"
(What does that mean?)
No clue
It must be illicit pentagram
(What are you talking about?)
No clue

I check my shutter speed, my aperture, my domino
Can't focus, can't stop staring at the face I used to know
This life is not a prison: we are always free to go at anytime