People on the airwaves always preach who I should be
How to dress
How to talk
Baby how to breathe
Wicked artist use their limber fingers
To paint pictures of what young girls are to aspire to be
I'm not alive if I'm not on illegal weed
I'm not in love without a man sitting next to me
Someone tell me if this is all an illusion
Or if I'm just a cog in the
21st Century machine
It's the place to be
In the 21st Century Machine
Shelf light and live precariously
Sipping on rosè is your best solution
Down it all till your stumbling with past confusion
Then
Sit back and do it all over again
You only live once, Friday nights your only friend
And you shouldn't worry
About your weight
And trust me when you're not looking they'll all still say you look great
Oh they'll still say you look great
I'm in peril, they wanna give me hell
They look at me with hungry eyes as I'm another Infidel
But oh they like me
That's why they wish me well
That's why they pull me gently as I'm trapped inside their meld
