All the glossy, plastic people prance about the screen
Persuading you to think that they're perpetually eighteen
Additives and preservatives to keep them on the shelf
Make you want to buy them more and just neglect your health
For every smiling photo there's a roll of film of untouched
Discarding all the negatives, airbrushed and then retouched
They're sealed inside an airtight wrapper, vacuum of perfume
Waiting for a passerby, their bodies to exhume
What has happened to the stars we used to wish upon?
They used to show only at night and disappear with dawn
They once exuded brilliance, now we crave to see their dark
We went from feeding fish food to crass, bloodthirsty sharks
"For every smiling photo there's a roll of film untouched."