Ticket Paroles

I ever wanted to see
Your face is just the ticket to everything
I was ever required to be

Sweet subtle nothing
Flower of my will
Your physical beauty
Is making me physically ill

I turn up again
Fantastically resplendent
They pack them in to the hilt
Funny thing is
The theatre hasn't even been built

I was up to absolute beauty
Playing it by my own book
Where there's no justice
In matters of beauty
I've still got it somewhere