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 s**t anymore; your sexual vibe carries across the land.
Daydream sex, broken marriage
f**k.
You cause this s**t.
Everyone has been waiting for this moment; for this song.
This song of the year: "sexy, smooth, yet
sophisticated."
The music isn't s**t.
It's all about IMAGE, IMAGE, IMAGE.
f**k 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 s**t, 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 f**k.
You cause this s**t.
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.