I am a glossy photograph I am in colour and softly lit Over exposed and well blown up Carefully printed and neatly cut You can look at me for hours I won't mind, I let you dream From the page of a magazine
I am a glossy photograph Of course I am a bit retouched And my colour has been processed But cameras always erase Fear Lurking behind a face I am a lie and I am gold But I Shall never grow old
My lips are parted But they're not for kissing My eyes are open But I'm not listening My breasts are round But my heart ist missing I am a photograph, I am a photograph
I'm better than the real thing
I am a glossy photograph I am appearing by the magic Of a Nikon automatic Maybe I'm just a piece of paper But some think that I am better Cause photograph do not complain Or cry, or love, or suffer
