This Dress Kills Chumbawamba

I'm Judas Judy, panicking, got everything and nothing
Happy birthday mister president I'm here to call your bluff
From the top of the world I'm gonna jump, jump, jump
I'm so perfectly imperfect and I did it for your love
I'm as small as Thumbelina, sugar fairy on the cake
Because the thinnest of excuses leave the bitterest taste
Brittle-boned, Barbie-cued, take a piece of my heart
When you know you haven't got it, does it make you feel good
This dress is killing me
Frockanoia
(Repeat)
I won and then I lost and then I won and then I lost

And now I know how much a pound of flesh can cost
And the question isn't if, but a definite when
Do I throw my achy heart into the gutter again
The party isn't over 'til the thin lady sings
Critics dressed as waiters waiting in the wings
There they'll gather like vultures to pick at the bones
I won and then I lost and I got nothing at all
This dress is killing me
Frockanoia
(Repeat)