Kiss Me, I'm French

To a French toy shop she sold her little heart;
A second-hand teddy raped from all its mind,
Stuffed with illusions
of all the wrong kind.

Words go to waste on too short of a breath,
Yet they sound so terribly romantic.
His world keeps turning,
she's oh so static.

Industrial heartbreak is top of the fashion.
Her autobiography is material for art books.
He stares at the beauty,
She hides from his looks.

Guarding her J'te aime's as well as her virginity
Yes, she appears so unexpectedly cute.
A sudden stranger to herself -
So loud, so mute.