Plastic Venus

She's a tyran- comb in hand
chic in every single strand
White plastics, polimers
The image slowly blurs

And when Venus rebels
I am weak
A wall of problem-pebels
I am meek
I'll test her surface
She slowly slides
Unpack the suitcase
untill the sun hides
And tomorrow leave again
Venus is always in a pain

She is palstic, she can feel
She is plastic, she is real

My Venus slowly moving to demise
Covering fresh skin under disguise
As limbs are brittle
As bones are frale
Synthethicly we hide
Under a plastic smile
A commercial bride
Another on the pile

Run away heart-stricken
Try to hide
Life is often too fast-driven
Feelings glide
Slit the superficial
Clap your hands
Always beneficial
To make amends

She is plastic, she can feel
She is plastic, she is real

She's a tyran- comb in hand
chic in every single strand
White plastic, polimers
The image fades and blurs

And when Venus screamed
I ran off
And broke the silent gleam
I rushed out
Her skin is bruised
Her plaster twisted
I smile while abused
My heart solidifies

She is plastic, she can feel
She is plastic, she is real

My Venus all used-up,
I'm throwing you away
just like a coffee cup
one time to use
one time to use a human
then you throw away
re-cycle

Repeat the Venus-cycle