Nice Age - Yellow Magic Orchestra

Her toys are broken boys

Lined heart to heart at her door

Each a burnt-out kiss on her lips

A measure of her pleasure

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

The child in her smile is cracked

Her innocence smashed

There’s nothing left of her party dress

The bow in her hair isn’t there

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

She’s coming up like a flower

Through the prisons of perfume

Alone with her cheekbones

Counting lovers she has known

In the secrets of her room

Her toys are broken boys

Lined heart to heart at the door

Each a burnt-out kiss on her lips

A measure of her pleasure

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

She’s at a nice age

Ripe age

Ready to be killed by the thrill

She’s at a nice age, ripe age (The taste of first lipstick)

Ready to be killed by the thrill (The mechanics of a wink)

She’s at a nice age, ripe age (The china of the doll)

Ready to be killed by the thrill (Divine on her chaise lounge)

She’s at a nice age…