Text: Veruca Salt. American Thighs. Celebrate You.

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 (oh-oh, oh-oh)
Celebration (Oh-oh, Oh-oh)
Celebration (Oh-oh, Oh-oh)
Celebration (Oh-oh, Oh, oh)
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 a toast to you,
The blood spills on the carpet

At your celebration (oh-oh, oh-oh)
Celebration (Oh-oh, Oh-oh)
Celebration (Oh-oh, Oh-oh)
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 out 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.