Up on that pedestal, baby.
You're famous.
You've got us on our knees
Worshipping
Your wages.
Laugh on in Hollywood,
It's understood.
I'm not jealous
Of your commercialized
Suicide.
Overwhelm us
With hate for how you treat
The incomplete.
Rebellion.
Redemption.
Money speaks to me redundantly,
Says, "Life aint no fucked fantasy."
And we're not friends so let's not pretend
That there's any substance in this.
Stay up staring at the ceiling,
Subconcious fight.
We're against the glamorous,
The gods - their laws, our fleeting rights.
Blindly followed phony leaders
Right off the cliffs.
Landing on the rocks below
And the sentenced to the worst dungeons
Sink my teeth into temptation.
The victims of so-called "circumstance" can hardly stand.
Motivation is what you've lacked.
Liars claim they broke the mold.
They sold their souls
Impending wreckage,
Unprotected
Deceptive idols.
Wealth and stature,
Flex your power
Stop on those who dare oppose.
I'm not flawless,
I must confess.
Beauty contests make me vomit.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.