I’m sick of these isles of plastic smiles
That surround my feet for miles and miles
Like the Toy section in Wal-Mart Land
The Barbie-folk walk hand in hand
And G.I. Joe checks out the girls
And little toy nuts runaway from toy squirrels
Toy cars and trucks and Hummers too
Cruise the isles for me and you
And I can’t run away and I definitely cant hide
But I can’t keep away the way I feel inside
But everyone keeps smiling, the Barbies keep grinning
And I don’t want to think it, but I know that they’re winning
Now they’re pulling my hair, and marking my face
With little toy make ups that I can’t erase
And G.I. Joe’s flirting and toy squirrels are bighting
My baby is gone and I just don’t want to be fighting
They’re sucking me in and I don’t want to go
But everything seems so perfect and really great-so
I reached out my hand to pull you inside
Smiling like Barbie thinks she needs pride
I’ll be your Barbie and you’ll be my Ken
And we’ll get married and condoms won’t exist, and then
I’ll dress like a hooker you’ll dress like a cheat
We’ll address ourselves like we aren’t the ones to beat
But I can’t help but wonder, how far did I drown
And I reach my hand up, can’t pull the sun down
Then I’ll look at you and you’ll look at me
And we’ll look down and around and see
All the isles and isles of plastic smiles
That surround our bodies for miles and miles
And know that we’re crazy and try to fix it
But nothing else could ever give us kicks like it
So you get up and I go down
Down right into Barbie-Town
With a flame thrower and a machete too
I’ll kill the Barbies and so will you
And when we’re done, we’ll look around again and see
There’s no more plastic smiles,
Except the ones on you and me.




 
Copyright © boomchicka217, All Rights Reserved