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