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