What a generic girl
Made in the factory for pretty girls
Born into a glamorous life
With money and fame at their feet
Attending the finest of schools daddy can pay for
Wearing the most expensive clothing
But what can she say?
She's traveled the world, yes
She's lived in luxury, yes
She's met celebrities, yes
But has she lived a life of innocence?
She's not one who's experienced pain
From financial downfalls
From rejection
From the real world
Live your life in fantasy, pretty girl
Life's not a story book
It's a journey that you cannot take
If locked in a cage by your own ignorance
You belong in a box in the factory
Where you don't feel
Where you're not needed
Just like here
Go back to your factory
Hide from them
Why does it matter?
All white factory
The machines will solve the puzzle for you
The machines, with their dirty, broken parts
It's coming after you
Run to the assembly line
And you'll fnd your childhood bicycle
It's so close, yet so far away
Reaching, reaching
There's no one here but you and the machines
The soul-less machines
So why are you afraid?
You can feel it coming
It, it's coming, I can feel it
A gentleman caller will show you the way
"It was only me and the machines"
"Hush my child, I can get you home" he said
I take his hand, follow him
Only to return in more shock
He says, "I'll be your substitute for love"
The machines no longer solve your puzzles
No more need for pretty little things
No more bicycle
I've got nothing to lose
This is what it's like without the help of machinary
I feel so empty and lonely
He left saying, "You've got nothing left for me to feed,
You're now one of them, you're a machine."
You. You are the worthless piece of life
The worthless skin, bone, and muscle
You are the small little smudge of my lipstick
Yet I take the time to care
Care for you, care for your problems
And everytime I leave unloved but still loving you
So how can it be that I still come back?
Something makes me think that the little smudge
Is still there, in presence wherever I go
I can feel it, no matter what I do
To get rid of that small little smudge
To get rid of you
You know my soft spot
I'm a slut, I'm a whore
That little smudge of lipstick changes my whole appearance
Yet I still tend to it
As if I can't leave it be, as it is
I have to change it
I have to change you
You are my small little smudge
A blemish in my life
All this for a small smudge of lipstick
Today brings the youth of tomorrow unneccessary stress
While we pray for our selfish tendencies
We suffer...unable to produce what we want
Because we have forgotten what we need
How can a society so confused
Know what they want and need?
Their leaders "guide" them
And the citizens buy
Buy themselves debt
Through corruption
Not only corrupting fellow men, but also themselves
Creating self-conscious, self-centered images
Of a leader almighty
While some wait for a grace
To bring them tender care
Others become the promise
In a masquerade
Only to become lost
Like the rest of us.
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