The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
I am...
More than two faced. I've got at least six with cheap tricks,
To hide my not-so-pretty side while accentuating cheeks and lips.
I use battin' rouge to battle crews who don't like the remix,
And you just act confused by the way I choose to fuck with a double helix.
Cuddle with me quick. Get befuddled and sea sick.
My ugly mug'll be equipped to make it a struggle to see shit.
The beat kicks. My belly feels empty. I want a person there.
I'll curse and swear, and act unmother-like until I persevere.
Haven't been to church in years. Right now that's the setting.
I couldn't think of a better place to cover my face and have a wedding.
It's upsetting how plastic my mask is getting. It's melting and releasing toxic fumes.
Covered by lots of perfume. Never coming out of my closet of costumes.
Cartoon versions of myself are drawn out. After that occurs,
Time gets consumed. I'm in the dressing room with the caricatures.
Until my head is cured I'm heading for pedicures and manicures.
Man, if your not damn sure of whether or not to pop the question I'll let you in on the answer...
Think of sex in a camper....
A phony life with a trophy wife, menthol cigarettes and cancer.
Smoke and Mirrors.
(inhale)
So sophisticated.
(exhale)
So cool.
(Cough cough)
I AM...
An illusion specialist turning tricks who could never dis,
The one the wake up next to even if it's not the one they went to bed with.
Breakfast at Tiffany's. Skip lunch. Make sure the dinner table is candle lit.
I squish my feet until they crunch, but I'm unable to make these sandals fit.
I can't just sit. I need to MOVE and power walk, because Oprah said it.
And I won't forget it. She does it during the opening credits. I'm so synthetic.
I like the smell of coke. Get it? I powder my nose.
Power to hoes who pound on a hose while playing in a pound of snow. I'm getting snow plowed, I KNOW.
It's time to fuck a guy now.
I just applied blush and look surprised but it's the way I plucked my eyebrows.
Time out. I'm in a tanning booth...reading Danielle Steel.
And I'm planting banana peels beneath every damn man's heal,
Waiting for them to fall for my sad trick. I stop, drop and kneel.
With a little touch of magic, I'll let David cop a feel.
I'm not real, but I've got FEELINGS...except in my nipples because of the breast implants,
To have my chest enhanced. I pant in dresses but never dress in pants.
A club hopping strobe light honey...addicted to wrinkle cream,
Sipping on Listerine. Mr. Clean don't like the smell of nicotine.
Smoke and Mirrors.
(inhale)
So sophisticated.
(exhale)
So cool.
(Cough cough)
I AM...
Dirtyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
More than two faced. I've got at least six with cheap tricks,
To hide my not-so-pretty side while accentuating cheeks and lips.
I use battin' rouge to battle crews who don't like the remix,
And you just act confused by the way I choose to fuck with a double helix.
Cuddle with me quick. Get befuddled and sea sick.
My ugly mug'll be equipped to make it a struggle to see shit.
The beat kicks. My belly feels empty. I want a person there.
I'll curse and swear, and act unmother-like until I persevere.
Haven't been to church in years. Right now that's the setting.
I couldn't think of a better place to cover my face and have a wedding.
It's upsetting how plastic my mask is getting. It's melting and releasing toxic fumes.
Covered by lots of perfume. Never coming out of my closet of costumes.
Cartoon versions of myself are drawn out. After that occurs,
Time gets consumed. I'm in the dressing room with the caricatures.
Until my head is cured I'm heading for pedicures and manicures.
Man, if your not damn sure of whether or not to pop the question I'll let you in on the answer...
Think of sex in a camper....
A phony life with a trophy wife, menthol cigarettes and cancer.
Smoke and Mirrors.
(inhale)
So sophisticated.
(exhale)
So cool.
(Cough cough)
I AM...
An illusion specialist turning tricks who could never dis,
The one the wake up next to even if it's not the one they went to bed with.
Breakfast at Tiffany's. Skip lunch. Make sure the dinner table is candle lit.
I squish my feet until they crunch, but I'm unable to make these sandals fit.
I can't just sit. I need to MOVE and power walk, because Oprah said it.
And I won't forget it. She does it during the opening credits. I'm so synthetic.
I like the smell of coke. Get it? I powder my nose.
Power to hoes who pound on a hose while playing in a pound of snow. I'm getting snow plowed, I KNOW.
It's time to fuck a guy now.
I just applied blush and look surprised but it's the way I plucked my eyebrows.
Time out. I'm in a tanning booth...reading Danielle Steel.
And I'm planting banana peels beneath every damn man's heal,
Waiting for them to fall for my sad trick. I stop, drop and kneel.
With a little touch of magic, I'll let David cop a feel.
I'm not real, but I've got FEELINGS...except in my nipples because of the breast implants,
To have my chest enhanced. I pant in dresses but never dress in pants.
A club hopping strobe light honey...addicted to wrinkle cream,
Sipping on Listerine. Mr. Clean don't like the smell of nicotine.
Smoke and Mirrors.
(inhale)
So sophisticated.
(exhale)
So cool.
(Cough cough)
I AM...
Dirtyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Lyrics submitted by exact
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