Clotheshorse

You are an affectation of every passing fad, your butane smile's
indelible, your talk is thoughtless gas, you live like a Coke machine,
convince me of your strife, tasty tyke of augmentation you'll pay with
your life. Your youth is eveything, your cock is all, your body makes
bank and your mind is small, your youth is everything, your tits stand
tall, your body makes bank and your mind is dull. Your needle eyes and
hands of slate regard a stuff repose, contemplate your mindless fate
while powdering your nose, loathing all that you can't fathom, cuckhold
by your pride, endorsing a madman's marketed worldwide. Rested on your
sculpted shoulders all the weight of fame, statuesque emaciaciation is
the mole of day, packaging rebellion in a palatable box, wash away the
meaning as you wash your frosted locks. Yes we made you what you are, we
buy the clothes you wear, we buy the shit that shapes your hair, we buy
your hipness anywhere, but time will surely vanquish you and we'll no
longer worship you.