Camilla Rhodes

This moment is set. Let's make magic. You're the number one girl; It's time to stay at the top. This the song of the year. We just recorded your orgasm. The music isn't shit anymore; Your s*xual vibe carries across the land. Daydream s*x, broken marriage fuck. You cause this shit. Everyone has been waiting for this moment; For this song. This song of the year: "s*xy, smooth, yet sophisticated." The music isn't shit. It's all about image, image, image. f******ur song, you're looking good. We just recorded your orgasm, and the money is rolling in. Alone, afraid, smile glued bright. Feeling so dirty, s*xed up by human eyes. An "artist" washed over, pulled under. The moment is set, let's make magic. You're the number two girl; It's time to kill for the top. Let's show this song of the year. We videotaped your orgasm. The music was never shit, we lied, we lied, as you lay, drained, Tired and robbed of your self-expression You're a toy, a toy for lust and greed. Insecure depression, The mirrors are laughing at us. Trying to be s*xy queen, Trying to be darling. You've pounded in her little head Like daddy wants to pound in you. Daydream s*x, broken marriage fuck. You cause this shit. Makeup, bras and lingerie no need for this algebra. Family dinners silent, speaking only to ourselves This orgasm on the screen has molded our American dream. --- Camilla Rhodes - Between the Buried and Me