Standing in the flashing light

The porcelain people pose tonight

Wearing outfits made with care,

Trinkets of obsession, flair.

Their faces smile emptily

Hands are planted on their hips

They strut among adoring sheep,

With corruption painted on their lips.

 

Objects of yearning, immortality

As long as they’re pretty, we’re immune to fatality.

These mannequins delight in when,

They can always pose again

Adored by all despite their faults

With their ego they can waltz.

They have money, so we care,

About their clothes and about their hair.

 

Packs of leeches follow suit

Holding up their needful arms

Eager to get a piece of wealth

From these gleaming people farms.

The spellbound watchers envy them

Examples of the lovely “Norm”

Passing among electronic eyes,

That caress their pitiful plastic forms.

 

“Its okay to be vain, its okay to be rude.

Normal people love it when you’re blithe and crude

Do it for the cameras. Do it for the show.

They’ll keep taking pictures, because they want to know.

You can get low and you can get high.

If you have money, they’ll help you fly.

You’re porcelain people, of course you’re real!

The leeches love you; zesty meals.

 

Diamonds and filet mignon

Everyone’s a worthy pawn

Don’t think about war, don’t think about fate

Just grab that booze and celebrate.”

 

Beneath skies of confusion, lacking precious light.

The porcelain people blindly sell their souls tonight.

The leeches feed contentedly,

The others watch with glee

As the objects of obsession fall apart at the seams.

Confined within the display case,

Wanting a way out

That's what being a mannequin is always all about.

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