Lyrics:
we find our songsin fashion magazineswe read the storyin the morning paperI touch their heartsand they touch my skinI'm on your screenand you are just so widethough I get my kicksit's slowly wasting medon't try to be an artistI try to be a mandead stars still burndead still stars burnwe find ourselvesin pictures on the netblinded by scienceaddicted to devotionI'm in your holdeager to abusemy favourite gameI suffer from misuseI just want to knowthe man in front of themto read their mindsfor me to understandthough I get my kicksit's slowly wasting medon't try to be an artistI try to be a man