i wear my patent leather shoes
and my golden fleeces.
A feather in my hair for you,
and then i fall to pieces
at your celebration,
celebration, celebration,
celebrate you.

we're quiet as two mannequins
feasting on silences.
we wait for christmas to begin
to see the cracking faces
i tip my glass and toast to you.
the blood spills on the carpet
at your celebration
celebration, celebration
celebrate you.

and in the dream you held a gun.
you killed off all who hurt you,
and left me there, the only one
who would not dare desert you.
i'm safe here growing in the shade,
away from all your brightness.
i lost my innocence today
when i learned how to write this.

tonight my nightgown is in knots.
i toss and turn in your honor
i'll never know just what i've got
as long as you're my father.

and i'll keep searching here for you.
i'll clean up, every corner.
it's not my fault
it's not my fault (celebrate you)
it's not my fault (celebrate you)
it's not my fault (celebrate you)
it's not my fault.