Lyrics

With detailed precision nothing omitted Made the incision cut to what ahead None of the trends None of the friends of the packaging crew Who seals of the image of who buys who None of it fits On the shelf it sits What the rest of us have Is being sold with a laugh By the media men In some hope for a trend And when their ends meet The next pose on a street Will be the new complete set of rules Sold by liars and bought by fools When the clothe gets thin And your shoes begin to show your feet How far can you walk? At the billboard talk at the end of the street? When the radio times Set the rate of decline to a bastardized beat Does your sun still shine On the neon signs at the side of the street? Make the incision It's an easy decision Rejecting the gods of consumer religion Fashion and popstars Setting the trends Pulling the strings are the media men