.
Shes plastic, shes speed read, a classic line between the lines
, , .
Fantastic and half dead, his tactic, blind to warning signs
, ,
Her clashes of colors are flashes of society
Ÿ - .
In ashes his dollars like posters of a tragic love story
, .
See the puppet master laugh, astride a pale horse
,
And take another photograph, for selfie intercourse
, .
Reading out the epitaph of our pointless wars
,
For love we will tear us down
.
Hes shooting at shadows, portraying a proper soldier boy
,
Shes thinking, in logos, still searching for the real mccoy
, , .
Broadcasters, theyve got this, disasters, a wasp of a satire
, ,, .
Like actors who french kiss right after someone stole their fire
, , .
See/Hear the puppet master laugh, astride a pale horse
/ ,
And take another photograph, for selfie intercourse
, .
Reading out the epitaph of our pointless wars
,
For love we will tear us
.
Down that beaten path she treads
.
Mirage the blushing bride he weds
, .
Yesterdays diamonds and pearls
Now worthless trinkets in their world
.
The salty tang of blood, sensations running hot
, ,
Snow blindness in pitch darkness, mindless rage
,
And then you see the puppet master laugh
And take another photograph
.
See/Hear the puppet master laugh, astride a pale horse
/ ,
And take another photograph, for selfie intercourse
, .
Reading out the epitaph of our pointless wars
,
When love, love could be our crown
, .
*
"POTF".