Dressed up in pretty pictures That line the walls of a teenaged princess. Pray nightly to the tv screen To false idols that you've never seen. Dance, dance to the wicked sound Of ignorance and make them so proud Dance, dance to the frequencies Controlled by the profit agencies. Chorus: Hey are we all just slaves? Yeah addicted to fame! Hey are we all just slaves? To bright lights and fear campaigns? Dressed up in a plastic guard. Shrink wrapped for the slaughter yard. Diluted for the magazines. Tailor made for the sweet sixteen. Dance, dance to the wicked sound Of ignorance
and make them so proud. Dance, dance to the frequencies Controlled by the profit agencies. Hey are we all just slaves? Yeah addicted to fame! Hey are we all just slaves? To bright lights and fear campaigns? Hey are we all just slaves? Yeah addicted to fame! Hey are we all just slaves? To bright lights and fear campaigns? Hey are we all just slaves? Yeah addicted to fame! Hey are we all just slaves? To bright lights and fear campaigns? Hey are we all just slaves? Yeah addicted to fame! Hey are we all just slaves? To bright lights and fear campaigns?