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...