Clotheshorse

You are an affectation of every passing fad, your butane smile's

indelible, your talk is thoughtless gas, you live like a Coke machine,

convince me of your strife, tasty tyke of augmentation you'll pay with

your life. Your youth is eveything, your cock is all, your body makes

bank and your mind is small, your youth is everything, your tits stand

tall, your body makes bank and your mind is dull. Your needle eyes and

hands of slate regard a stuff repose, contemplate your mindless fate

while powdering your nose, loathing all that you can't fathom, cuckhold

by your pride, endorsing a madman's marketed worldwide. Rested on your

sculpted shoulders all the weight of fame, statuesque emaciaciation is

the mole of day, packaging rebellion in a palatable box, wash away the

meaning as you wash your frosted locks. Yes we made you what you are, we

buy the clothes you wear, we buy the shit that shapes your hair, we buy

your hipness anywhere, but time will surely vanquish you and we'll no

longer worship you.