This moment is set. Let's make magic. You're the #1 girl; it's time to
stay at the top. This the song of the year. We just recorded your
orgasm. The music isn't shit anymore; your sexual vibe carries across the
land. Daydream sex, broken marriage fuck. You cause this shit. Everyone
has been waiting for this moment; for this song. This song of the
year: "sexy, smooth, yet sophisticated." The music isn't shit. It's all
about IMAGE, IMAGE, IMAGE. Fuck your song, you're looking good. We just
recorded your orgasm, and the money is rolling in.
Alone, afraid, smile glued bright. Feeling so dirty, sexed up by human
eyes. An "artist" washed over, pulled under. The moment is set, let's
make magic. You're the #2 girl; it's time to kill for the top. Let's
show this song of the year. We videotaped your orgasm. The music was
never shit, we lied, we lied, as you lay...drained, tired and robbed of
your self-expression...you're a toy, a toy for lust and greed. Insecure
depression, the mirrors are laughing at us. Trying to be sexy queen,
trying to be darling. You've pounded in her little head like daddy wants
to pound in you. Daydream sex, broken marriage fuck. You cause this
shit. Makeup, bras and lingerie no need for this algebra. Family dinners
silent, speaking only to ourselves...This orgasm on the screen has molded
our American dream.