The Game - Poets Of The Fall

She’s plastic

She’s speed-read

A classic line between the lines

Fantastic and half-dead

His tactic blind to warning signs

Her clashes of colors

Are flashes of society

In ashes

His dollars like posters of a tragic love story

See the puppet master laugh

Astride a pale horse

And take another photograph

For selfie intercourse

Reading out the epitaph

Of our pointless wars

For love we will tear us down

He’s shooting at shadows

Portraying a proper soldier boy

She’s thinking in logos

Still searching for the real McCoy

Broadcasters, they’ve got this

Disasters a wasp of a satire

Like actors who French kiss

Right after someone stole their fire

See the puppet master laugh

Astride a pale horse

And take another photograph

For selfie intercourse

Reading out the epitaph

Of our pointless wars

For love we will tear…

Us down that beaten path she treads

Mirage the blushing bride he weds

Yesterday’s diamonds and pearls

Now worthless trinkets in their world

The salty tang of blood

Sensations running hot

Snow blindness in pitch darkness

Mindless rage

And then you…

See the puppet master laugh

And take another photograph

See the puppet master laugh

Astride a pale horse

And take another photograph

For selfie intercourse

Reading out the epitaph

Of our pointless wars

When love

Love could be our crown