LYRIC

I've never been too popular with you or your friends
But you go around, slitting your wrists for attention, selling your soul for gold and oh my God it's getting old
I don't want to scare you, you've just been so afraid your entire life
I snuff out a cigarette walk downtown, where every face looks like a celebrity
But it's all the same to me, it's one hell of a life here in these dreams
You want to be rich I know, I know (Top dollar shoes and fancy clothes), you want to be that pig with lipstick on, lip syncing all of her songs. Everybody wants to be famous, run to California, where the artists kill themselves and the actors die from the medication
And who needs God when you have money, and who needs love when you have sex. I need another pill to get me through this mess. I need a cut below the eye, I'm hanging on by crows feet, wither away, with dry bones and chardonnay. I need another article to say my name again
You want to be rich I know, I know (Top dollar shoes and fancy clothes), you want to be that pig with lipstick on, lip syncing all of her songs. Everybody wants to be famous, run to California, where no one is quite themselves, and living is just copying someone else
Hey, do you know, you're not impressing me. (I'll be the one to tell you)
You can see through everyone but yourself, and does it make you sick?
Does it make you bite your lip when it happens to the ones that you love?
Is your finger so far down your throat?

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