| Her neon mouth with the blinking soft smile
|
| Ain’t nothing but an electric sign
|
| You could say she has an individual style
|
| She’s a part of a carnival time
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| Super steel lady, chrome-colored clothes you wear
|
| Cause you have no other
|
| But I suppose no one knows
|
| You’re my plastic fantastic lover
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| Her rattling cough never shuts off
|
| It’s nothing but a used machine
|
| Her aluminum finish, slightly diminished
|
| Is the best I ever have seen
|
| Cosmetic baby plugged into me
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| And never ever find another
|
| But I realize no one’s wise
|
| To my plastic fantastic lover
|
| The electrical dust is starting to rust
|
| Her trapezoid thermometer taste
|
| All the red tape is mechanical rape
|
| Of the TV program waste
|
| Data control and IBM
|
| Science is mankind’s brother
|
| But all I see is draining me
|
| Of my plastic fantastic lover |