Dancing in a whirlwind, depending on the storm’s type The things you hear in hollyweird to live a normal life All the appearances and poses proposing goals For lost teens Flip a million scripts to culture the scene
No one knows how to go dark From the casting director to the lighting on the dresser To the vanity, picky on who’s gonna dress her To the public picking flaws, only select questions address her To the hair and makeup, let me alter the texture Revenge of the demons in the angel’s city On going gang wars distracted by surfboards
But we don’t run marathons of the mouth to avoid Our set's reality, we don’t cherry pick the highest paid decoy I hear the chains clang right before the worldwide gang bang Fifty fuzzy dicks Explanations trying to trick Keep shining until it leaves an imprint No ones buying it
Lies to seem normal Lies deceive normal Truth is weird is real life