They're the beautiful, and oh so pitiful,
With everything, but none of it is real
They're on your TV screen,
And every magazine,
When you have it all, tell me how it feels (do they feel?)
They're fantastic, made of plastic,
You can try but you can't grasp it
Don't let them in or let them blow you away
Far from here you've come, small towns from which you've run
To be close to those you wish you could be
I guess you never knew,
They're no better off than you,
They lost it all on quests of vanity
They're fantastic, made of plastic,
You can try but you can't grasp it
Don't let them in or let them blow you away
They're fantastic, made of plastic,
You can try but you can't grasp it
Don't let them in or let them blow you away
Blow you away, blow you away, blow you away...