I was born
Pathetic observance
My Tv
Processed existence
Might not get good
But it’ll get different
Get yourself out there and make your name worth something
God hates fakes
And you’re getting faker
Get a job
Start getting fatter
Hold it tight
Hail to the starstruck
if you fail you can always blame it on bad luck
Blessed be the industry
I need an idol to reach out and touch me
Blessed be celebrity
Now we can spend our way to immortality
Fell for the electric night
Amateur who can make it right
We’re losing fours and high-fives
will it, wish it, had it, lost it
A staggering
Machine of desire
Get a cross
Put your soul in a wire
Give a coin
To the empire
And for fifteen minutes get a place at the fire
I’m taking the long way there
Perfect bodies and perfect squares
Polished lips and thoughts to share
Lifted, crafted, forget, paycheck