Written in Denton, TX at a bar where I was watching Chad perform at open mic night.
ARTIFICIAL PEOPLE
By Cheryl Banks (1997)
Artificial people, artificial lives
Designer clothes, designer wives
Society snobs greedy and empty
Parties and balls to be seen and to see
Other empty clones
With their manicured nails and cellular
phones
Monkey suits and expensive cars
Martinis and wine in pretentious bars
Look at me! Can you see my success?
Just don’t look too closely or you’ll
see I’m a mess
My kids despise me, my wife’s a bore
My job is killing me; to get up is a
chore
I’d give it all up to be back in that
place
The one I was in before the rat race
The rat has won but the joke was on me
I was the rat and too late I see
The finish was a trap, the riches its
bait
Society sucks out your soul till you
hate
You hate yourself for what you’ve become
Gone is the purpose, gone is the fun
Run away from it all; run away till
you’re caught
Run for your life, your soul has been
bought.
