I live a synthetic life.
Fabricated are my thoughts.

My feelings are plastic;
Brittle, though they are strong.

I can feel however I want to feel
And do whatever I like.
This, my friend, is the beauty
Of living a synthetic life.

It's why if I would like to speak with god,
I may do it lysergically.
And it's why I've never felt an ounce of pain,
Not even during surgery.

If I want to be the king,
I don't even need a throne.
All I need is a tiny bit of powder up my nose.
And with the pills that I may buy
With my synthetic money.
I may feel synthetic love,
Even alone;
How funny.