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Flobots - Simulacra lyrics

( Everybody walks around wearing... they're walking advertisements. They've got advertisements on their clothes, ya know? The whole culture is one unified field of bought - sold - market researched, everything. People that don't have any concept if there ever was a, a culture outside of this thing that's created to make money. What's behind all this jive bullsh**?')

Everybody's s**ually active (Bullsh**)
Somebody out there's objectively attractive (Bullsh**)
Act correctly you can match the simulacra (Bullsh**)
(Bullsh**, bullsh**-bullsh**, bullsh**)

Jonny 5:
I went to a love hotel, I pulled a fire alarm
Beat up my brother with a tennis ball container, I had my tired arm
Pulling, fantasizing 'bout a blow up doll
I didn't get off, it didn't go off, I didn't feel satisfied at all
I wanted to run away but I didn't have a reason
Got so mad one time I started cryin' and seizin'
Paper after paper lookin' for something I didn't need
Found one, just as I ripped it my fit was already done
This is how I begun
Seein' how I'm different from
T.V. and I keep re-seein' it tellin' me how to be and it's bullsh**
I yelled "f** the police" while they drove past
Used to think I had to learn to freestyle in order to rap (Bullsh**)

Everybody's s**ually active (Bullsh**)
Somebody out there's objectively attractive (Bullsh**)
Act correctly you can match the simulacra (Bullsh**)
(Bullsh**, bullsh**-bullsh**, bullsh**)

Everybody's s**ually active (Bullsh**)
Somebody out there's objectively attractive (Bullsh**)
Act correctly you can match the simulacra (Bullsh**)
(Bullsh**, bullsh**-bullsh**, bullsh**)

Faith:
I tried X but I didn't know why
'Cause then I had s** but I didn't get high
Supermodels are XXY
It's all just a lie
Kids fall for fads, see ads and wanna try it
I spent twenty on a diet, so what?
I still have cellulite and no butt
No, but, but-but until you laugh and just grow up
Learn to live with the bullsh**
You're only gonna throw up
Turnin' sick at the pulpit
Preaching sermons
Concernin' myth
Schemin', burnin' demons that don't exist
Thank God media and reality don't match
I need my own private quiet zone that's
My own patch of life
Detached from the hype
I don't wanna be imitated exactly right
'Cause truth is stranger than fiction
You should change your addiction
Before Disneylandlords arrange your eviction

(Bullsh**)
Everybody's s**ually active (Bullsh**)
Somebody out there's objectively attractive (Bullsh**)
Act correctly you can match the simulacra (Bullsh**)
(Bullsh**, bullsh**-bullsh**, bullsh**)

Jonny 5:
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/flobots/onomatopoeia/simulacra.html]
See I wanna write a song for the missing persons
The nerds and the sixty-six year old virgins
Burnt out surgeons
Mental patients
Persians, Haitians
Urban gay Asians
Nymphos, blimp-nose wimps
Uncorrupt cops, hermaphrodites
Fat kids, black kids
Anorexics tryin' to muster up an appetite
Phoneless, homeless, owners of disease
Anyone who slept through New Year's Eve
Clumsy thieves
Uneven sleeved impotent men
Napalm babies with scarred skin
Vietnam vets, Tourette's Syndrome girls with hairy arms
Balding boys in the club with their mom
In love with their mom
Diabetics, anybody who just doesn't get it
Stutterers, bread-butterers, suburb gutter-punks
Wanna-be monks, CEOs who wet the bed
The snails, and the angry white males
And the Siamese twins who connect at the head

I expect that you said
"I don't want to be compared to them, I'm not weak, not a freak, I'm American"
But if you stood next to 'em you'd embarra** them
So let me say my prayer again

I said I wanna write a song for the missing persons
The nerds and the sixty-six year old virgins
Burnt out surgeons
Mental patients
Persians, Haitians
Urban gay Asians
Nymphos, blimp-nose wimps
Uncorrupt cops, hermaphrodites
Fat kids, black kids
Anorexics tryin' to muster up an appetite
Phoneless, homeless, owners of disease
Anyone who slept through New Year's Eve
Clumsy thieves
Uneven sleeved impotent men
Napalm babies with scarred skin
Vietnam vets, Tourette's Syndrome girls with hairy arms
Balding boys in the club with their mom
In love with their mom
Diabetics, anybody who just doesn't get it
Stutterers, bread-butterers, suburb gutter-punks
Wanna-be monks, CEOs who wet the bed
The snails, and the angry white males
And the Siamese twins who connect at the head

I said the snails and the angry white males and the leeches
Dogs without tails and the star-bellied Sneetches
Sneetches without stars
And women behind bars
And men who design cars
Intending to find Mars
And anyone I'm far from anyone in my region
Buppies, guppies, scrubs, pigeons, and Norwegians
Finns, and the angry white men
And the Siamese twins who connect at the head

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