Aren’t we some attention whores,
When brokenness becomes fashionable
I can only tell you that so many fake it,
To seek attention, to increase popularity
And those who are really broken,
Look to the skies in gratitude,
Open to receive any divinity.
They lose sons, daughters and lovers, homes and land
And the fakers paint their faces dark,
Wear Victorian clothing,
At night, dance and indulge with drinks in their hands
Darkness for dollars, how noble of you.
Paint your face with dark mascara,
Pose with a skull or two.
Make sure that face is foundation white,
Take to black wings tattooed,
Pretend you’re of darkness night.
Make penmanship your earn and indulge in death prose,
Professional photo shoot,
Props, wardrobe, nobody knows.
And when they’re not looking, be on your way
Party, dance, the pretend is over
You’re a faker at the end of the day.