You are the center of your own private little constellation

And you are the jury and judge of every little deconstructed fable

And you like the way it is

You don't want to question it

You're the wonder of God's own handiwork

Yeah, you wear Versace but you look like a dirty bird

And yeah, even the paparazzi think you're quite absurd

Venus of your own consent, is there anything you give up for Lent

Oh parasite, oh peacock of pride, will you let the little people see inside you

And you don't wanna question it

And you're looking quite possessed

You're the wonder of God's own handiwork Yeah, you wear Versace but you look like a dirty bird

And yeah, even the buying public think you're quite a jerk

And you're trapped in your little castle

Like Randolph Hearst in his fringe and tassel

Yeah, you wear Versace but you look like a dirty bird

And yeah, even the paparazzi think you're quite absurd

There's too much information on the television

Innocent we have been sprung and innocent we are

You don't know how to feel, you don't know

This is the eye of the storm

This is society