She bought blue jeans and girly top
and make-up from a western shop
she'd wear them once and then she'd stop
and wake in paradise

She left her home in robe and veil
with martyrs' prayers she would not fail
and history called her bruised and stale
to wake in paradise

She pulled tight jeans on: pursed red lips
and checked the straps from waist to hips
the bomb was primed and would eclipse
her steps to paradise

Just one more girl, she crossed the floor
she'd smiled at guards who blocked the door
and joined the surging crowd before
she woke in paradise.