This moment is set.
Let's make magic.
You're the #1 girl; it's time to stay at the top.
This the song of the year.
We just recorded your orgasm.
The music isn't sh** anymore; your s**ual vibe carries across the land.
Daydream s**, broken marriage f**.
You cause this sh**.
Everyone has been waiting for this moment; for this song.
This song of the year: "s**y, smooth, yet sophisticated."
The music isn't sh**.
It's all about IMAGE, IMAGE, IMAGE.
f** your song, you're looking good.
We just recorded your orgasm, and the money is rolling in.
Alone, afraid, smile glued bright.
Feeling so dirty, s**ed up by human eyes.
An "artist" washed over, pulled under.
The moment is set, let's make magic.
You're the #2 girl; it's time to k** for the top.
Let's show this song of the year.
We videotaped your orgasm.
The music was never sh**, we lied, we lied, as you lay...
Drained, tired and robbed of your self-expression...
You're a toy, a toy for lust and greed.
Insecure depression, the mirrors are laughing at us.
Trying to be s**y queen, trying to be darling.
You've pounded in her little head like daddy wants to pound in you.
Daydream s**, broken marriage f**.
You cause this sh**.
Makeup, bras and lingerie no need for this algebra.
Family dinners silent, speaking only to ourselves...
This orgasm on the screen has molded our American dream.