We idolize the prima donnas
The braggadocio money makers
The free Masonic narcissists
With blood diamonds on their wrists
The ego eccentric, pop messiahs
That sing our souls to sleep
The entertainers of fantasy
That numb our minds to apathy
It’s the new religion of the celebrity, the worship of ones vanity
Sucking our souls into the tube with lethargy
Because all this time we’re kept entertained, so we forget that we are slaves
Trapped inside Plato’s cave, flicking channels until the grave

They tell us what to be
They show us what to dream
They sell us Vanity
Through a screen

The Gods wear Versace
The Gods snort cocaine
The Gods sing fuck songs
The Gods are celebrities

You’re the mogul of mass desire
The superficial vogue messiah
The branded god of vanity
The manufactured deity
Her majesty the queen of lust
Wearing the face of the status quo
Masquerading the shallow dream
Projecting paradise through a screen
The Disney rhyming bling fiend
The queen whore of decadent dreams
The inauthentic role model
With a procession that will follow
The cliche pop parade
With lullabies to keep them dazed
Dazed and confused, by their muse
Mind abused

Show us what to be
Show us what to be
Tell us what to feel
Show us what to be

I want lots of money
I want to take drugs
I want to fuck bitches
I want to be like you

You’re the chosen one, the demigod
They worship you in the holy wood
Bowing down at your ego shrine
Praying to your fame divine
Because monkey will see and monkey will do
Monkey will try and emulate like you
As you slowly debase the soul with Apathy
You’re the one they want to be as they become mirrors of your vanity
Imitating your depravity, mimicking your obscenity
The holders of the light set the trends of mass desire
The glory of the few shapes the dreams of the many

They tell us what to be
They show us what to dream
They sell us vanity
Through a screen

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