| Look at me. |
| Look at you
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| Looking at me. |
| Looking at you
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| Looking at me looking at me
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| Looking at you looking at you
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| Life’s a house of mirrors — I’m hooked to the view
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| I wipe em down to clear em — I’m pushing up through
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| A thousand idle copies of me smushed in a room
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| Bluer than Jonathan Osterman’s and I’m just as aloof
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| A crowd of identical twins I mistook as a crew
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| I found that I can’t count on myself, need onlooker approval
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| Let’s hammer it home, shatter my sense of self
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| A fragmented soul, I’m the emptiest shell
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| No courtesy from love — so I measure this wealth
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| In the currency of lust — and I’m spending it well
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| I’m your heaven or hell. |
| Echoed sentiments swell
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| As you beg me to mention your name, heckle and yell
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| Girls in their dresses worshiping mirrors
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| Live for the spotlight won’t you come near us
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| Boys serve as minions, ready to serve as the
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| Cameras give life to the death on the surface
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| It’s all about me
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| Come with us
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| Fuck a thousand words I could spend it on one picture
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| Plunge to drown your thirst and pretend I’m a mug — sip up!
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| Drunken off the curves, till you’re bent into submission
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| Listen! |
| Your thumbprint is a drug to our numbed senses/
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| In love with our reflection — it’s us! |
| It’s an obsession —
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| We’re stuck — in the sum of our ourselves
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| Publish the self as something to sell, an addiction to wishing that we were
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| somebody else
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| Now, if you follow along, well then you can follow me back
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| If you’ve got me all in your paws, you’re within the palm of my hand/
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| If you got a comment, then all of it better be positive —
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| Act up and you will be barred — I am God and this pixel facade is my chapel
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| The rapture within an app, I read your responses and laugh
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| Please throw your hearts in the basket, scream to all that you tapped it then
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| pass it along
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| Authors of captions craft me a psalm — like I am an icon
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| Refreshing! |
| I’m a symbol of my status |