[Verse 1]
Sipping prosecco through a monocle lens,
Your words are vintage but they’re borrowed, not penned.
A velvet blazer draped in existential haze,
You quote French films in a downtown café.
[Chorus]
Oh, you’re plastic profound, a flicker of style,
Dancing on irony for half of a mile.
The jangle of guitars can’t hide your disguise,
A new wave facade for the same hollow eyes.
[Verse 2]
You paint your sighs in neon gallery light,
A Polaroid soul that’s cropped too tight.
Thesaurus lips and a vinyl cliché,
You’re a cassette tape that’s been chewed and replayed.
[Bridge]
A postmodern haiku etched on a latte,
Your depth is a hashtag, it fades by Monday.
The crowd nods along to your cryptic refrain,
But the mirror cracks softly beneath the refrain.
[Chorus]
Oh, you’re plastic profound, a flicker of style,
Dancing on irony for half of a mile.
The jangle of guitars can’t hide your disguise,
A new wave facade for the same hollow eyes.
[Outro]
