we find our songs
in fashion magazines
we read the story
in the morning paper
I touch their hearts
and they touch my skin
I`m on your screen
and you are just so wide
though I get my kicks
it`s slowly wasting me
don`t try to be an artist
I try to be a man
dead stars still burn
dead still stars burn
we find ourselves
in pictures on the net
blinded by science
addicted to devotion
I`m in your hold
eager to abuse
my favourite game
I suffer from misuse
I just want to know
the man in front of them
to read their minds
for me to understand
though I get my kicks
it`s slowly wasting me
don`t try to be an artist
I try to be a man