You are the center of your
Own private constellation
And you are the judge and jury of
Every little deconstructed fable

And you like the way it is
You don't want to question it
You're the wonder of
God's own handiwork

Yeah, you wear Versace
But you look like a dirty bird
And yeah, even the paparazzi
Think you're quite absurd

Venus of your own consent
Is there anything that you give up for Lent
Oh parasite, oh peacock of pride
Will you let the little people see inside you

And you don't wanna question it
And you're looking quite possessed
You're the wonder of
God's own handiwork

Yeah, you wear Versace
But you look like a dirty bird
And yeah, even the buying public
Think you're quite a jerk

And you're trapped in your little castle
Like Randolph Hearst in his fringe and tassel

Yeah, you wear Versace
But you look like a dirty bird
And yeah, even the paparazzi
Think you're quite absurd

There's too much information
On the television
Innocent we have been sprung
And innocent we are

You don't know how to feel
You don't know
This is the eye of the storm
This is society