[Verse 1]
Is my music more plastic than me
Manipulating machines to make melodies
Are these harmonies real if played by fake strings
Is this sound appealing?
Will they still feel things?
Are they listening?
Am I interesting?
Do I create texture in my poetic architecture?
Will I be different or just different enough?
Confusing the real from the fake for the sake of the feel and abusing the fun
You see pop is so plastic
It's contrived for the masses
Imagine a passionless pit you'd fall asleep in reaction
But your caffeine's from a K-cup
Every day that you wake up
That's 365 things thrown away you don't get what it's made of
Now it's swirling soupy atrocious
Garbage floating the ocean
From microbeads in your lotion to the trash that ain't broken
Make ice caps unfrozen and kill all the life we exposing
To the notion that keeping production in motion is living life in the moment!
[Chorus]
My art is artificial
My synths are synthetic
We often lose the natural in a world made of plastic
My art is artificial
My synths are synthetic
We often lose the natural in a world made of plastic
[Verse 2]
All we want, is a drop
'Till we can't, treat it as a treat
This dopamine can't ever stop
We all fiend for feelings, fleeting
Feeding our unquenchable thirst for the next thing
The feelies give us FOMO while we hold our screens and take our soma
Now coca-cola dealing to fiends a different kind of cane
The kind that kills concentration of children in class
Sugar and aspartame lighting up an addicted brain
Have a bad habit of drinking these sugars that are made in a lab
So kids are riddled with ritalin
And addled with adderall
As if forging faux focus in class isn't sad at all
And the price of the pill includes the mice they kill
To ensure your weak tab suffices still
If you're complacent to cause, then you're complicit in the conflict
Phlalates cover your clothes, under your nose, breathing in toxins
Overdosing on your oxycontin candy, blue raspberry flavor
Prolific in it's profit, yet it's all based in fantasy
[Chorus]
My art is artificial
My synths are synthetic
We often lose the natural in a world made of plastic
My art is artificial
My synths are synthetic
We often lose the natural in a world made of plastic
