seasons of pretty
hey, picture pretty - - pretty baby - - wild boys - - good-time girls - - heart-breakers - - high-rollers - - love junkies - - soul-shakers - - the kings & queens of cool. they call us Trouble, with a capital “T”. our beauty is vanity. we take life for granted. we don’t know any different. (where are you, god?)
hip-happening-jaded. our open-mindedness, egotism. we’re a danger to ourselves. mirror obsessed useless in drug-cocktail daze. don’t name the price of needles & pipes, we’re poised for The Big Escape. arrogant & beautiful - - reckless & remote - - we want The Easy Life. (where are you, god?)
life’s a finger-snapping bore. the flavours come & go, when you’re beautiful & corrupt. glamorous, diamond-eyed cynical. are we mad or are we trying too hard? faithless one night stands - - love ‘em & leave ‘em - - frantic one hour stands - - back seat of your father’s car - - against the door of a nightclub john - - any place will do - - old, young, under-age - - single - - married - - straight or gay. who cares when there’s always someone to fill up the hole. seasons of pretty are what we are. (where are you, god?)
we’re callous, cruel & condescending - - cardboard cut-outs - - shadow shapes - - debauched, detached. derailed in hard-hitting, high-flying, hunger-driven disillusion nights - - riotous days of out to shout. we’re crying to be seen, “look at me, man! can’t you see who I am?” image is everything. (where are you, god?)
at the end of the night it’s not enough to pay your bills for booze & dope. when the sun comes up you pay the rest. better be ready for the almighty CRASH. still, we’re bored & ripe for trouble. we’re coming back for more. yeah, dying for immortality, we’re dying inside. seasons of pretty is what we are. (where are you, god?)
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