Down the rabbit hole We go As the flames grow higher For the unbelievers Making mushrooms out of men 'Til she turns them back again To a face of solid gold Of solid gold And the sycophantic fawners Sick of a quick time And the beginning's at the end 'Til we turn them back again ♪ First, she'll pull your fingers off And then, she'll pull your toes And then, she'll steal the photos from your phone But you won't notice ♪ Our echo doesn't hear us Anymore It's hanging on a cloth edge By its fingers The beginning at the end That's okay, I guess If you like this kinda, kinda thing This kinda thin, thin, thin, thin thing These kinda mushrooms These kinda ripples These kinda ripples This kinda thin thing, thin thing, thin thing ♪ Like this kinda thin, thin thing, yeah Like this kinda thin, thin thing Like this kinda thin, thin thing Like this kinda thin, thin thing Like this kinda thin, thin thing