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.