Tonight, turn the TV on
A reality controlled by mass media
Slaves defined by the lies we buy
Art’s only important if it’s advertised
Artificial – replication of the actual
Natural fraction of the actually factual
All the stars and the sky they’re in
And how I can get out from under them
Oh, I can’t help the way I feel
Plastic, fantastic, hyper-real
Burn off the awful that we are
Reborn in the middle of a dying star
Devoured the old me that you knew
More true fake and less fake true
Fake my death and disappear
The last song that you’ll ever hear
Math’s control on the lives we live
Limits, functions & derivatives
R + S to the power of X
Divided by the hyper-iso-infinite
Supposing X is the awful we all start from
Assuming S is short for “simulacrum”
Is it wrong to want more than this?
To be defined by more than their calculus?
Oh, I can’t help the way I feel
Plastic, fantastic, hyper-real
Burn off the awful that we are
Reborn in the middle of a dying star
Devoured the old me that you knew
More true fake and less fake true
Fake my death and disappear
The last song that you’ll ever hear
Beyond this sterilization we all settled for
Is an axiom waiting to be illuminated
We only live facsimiles of real lives
We’re not rich enough to be free
We’re not pretty enough to be equal
But why be content with a plastic lie?
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The Plague Sequence Lyrics – Hyper-realism