You create a hell for the ones to buy your illusion You design a spell that you cast upon the forsaken Hortative You engender temptation Re-create Invent the latest sensation Procreate Produce the perfect delusion Your god is digital You erase the deviations Adding beauty to the frail Dreams contrived upon a drawing-table set the pace of the vain Trust the vagaries of fashion Do what an the others do Total loss of independence You've always wishing you were someone else You behold your victims inane Opinions cast aside And when they try to change And try to find their native demeanor They are frozen out. precluded from the coven from the mass of fools There's a message and receivers who will see it as a rule There's an image made to covet Global mass-manipulation complete High-technology will cover all the errors in the way Can't you see that you deflower and deform the generations to come I will have to confess The music you listen to now Is pretty damn far from the truth In league with machines That help me to play all of the harmonies born in my head
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