Dead City Dealers - Plastic lyrics

She's pretentious, a hip agnostic Your best friend if you can get good weed She's a writer, kinda plastic Convoluted, yet so pristine Chorus: She reads Nietzsche in the middle of a donut shop Wannabe Bohemian who works in a coffee shop She's god's gift to all the emo boys That ain't me, Oi! Oi! Oi! She likes indie bands and bad poetry She'll like anything that gives her credibility She's a feminist An existentialist A hipster fascist, and that's why she isn't into me (Chorus) She's at the Beehive Smokin' Pall Mall cigarettes Ramen noodles is the new hip meal Went to a record store for Captain Beefheart But then she settled for Captain and Tinnille (Chorus)