every little thing is made of plastic,
it all winds up breaking in the end.
some day i hope to find something that's lasting,
and with it find peace of mind again.
we've all sold ourselves to the image,
the temporary fix that pacifies.
tried and true and died in blue,
we've held on through all it's pulled us through.
parting without goodbyes,
as we watch everything die.
what happened to art and beauty for beauty's sake?
we've sold out our expression for a bigger stage.
eyes gone black from searching for what i'll never find,
until i learn to close my eyes and leave the past behind.
eyes gone black from searching for what i'll never find,
until i learn to close my eyes and let the image die.
the image is so red
but you never fail
the blood's on my hands
and i am for sale.
what happened to art and beauty for beauty's sake?
we've sold out our convictions for a bigger stage.
the image is so dead
despite what we're taught
and with the blood from your hands
i have been bought.