Sunday, 6 October 2013


Her eyes are cliché blue
The deepest depths of the clearest swimming pool
Oceans with golden sand
Beckoning you from where you stand
You can't help but be allured
You can't wonder if that smile is insured
How much, pray tell, to buy such a pretty face?
Erotic eyes, how far to fall from grace?

Fifteen pounds, they say, the camera will take
Airbrush the rest, for success's sake
They'd dress a mop in the newest dress
Let the fools with the money do the rest

For a limited time only
You don't need talent
Just a shitload of money
A pretty face, maybe a tattoo
Nothing is sacred, nothing is taboo

Let me fit you into the image we want
Something androgynous, pale and gaunt
Mass produced, with an attitude to boot
Tailor made for disaffected youth

A million dollar prize
A sky dive without a parachute
A demented roller coaster ride
And all you have to do is watch your back
And hope like fuck the carriage stays on the tracks

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