The girls on the streets all look sad in this gold encrusted little town..
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Why is that?
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Isn't this the town of dreams?...
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Yeah... But it comes with a price.
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It's a town that never does anything, and yet takes all the credit...
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A place that promises so much,
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But never has a thing to say,
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Or a care in the world..
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There is no memory here.
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No dream for itself but the dreams of others.
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And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in re-runs..
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Immortalized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage.
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There's money in the air there..
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All you have to do is reach up and grab it...
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In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more,
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Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet,
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Of simple lives, and red carpets.
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The ejaculating Zeitgeist in night vision..
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Culture is a punch line and emotion is blood in the water..
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The sharks here play games you can't fathom.
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But you flock here anyway;
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On college money and credit cards,
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Spend a week bull shitting yourself that it was all true,
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All of it.
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Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality..
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The starry eyes fade as it dawns on you.
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Nothing is guaranteed.
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You are a part of the great divide,
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The chosen, or the frozen.
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Now your miles away without a net,
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Your college money's a collage of debt,
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And your credit cards are all snapped in fucking half.
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Time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy.
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This is now the back lot of your failed movie,
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A waking dream re-written without your permission.
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The real luster, the soft focus, the...
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Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to.
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Of sad surfs, and untouchable lords.
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You took a chance didn't you?...
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But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life.
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And you can't even walk home..
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The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town...
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Huh. No wonder.
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That's the only thing here that's real.
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The gold is for fools,
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And paradise is lost, but the hungry have never bothered with the cost.
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Day by day, they fall away like rose petals..Like ink that won't dry or fade.
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It just runs wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds..
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So I hope someone saves you before you get cold.
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I really do.
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Because the girls are all sad in this little black book...
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If you don't believe me, take a closer look.
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If you can.
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-----------------
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The Frozen (AOL Bonus Track)
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| Stone Sour |
