Root - Surface Paradise Part 13 lyrics

It's not soul It's not soul It's not soul It's solipsism It's not soul It's not soul It's not soul It's solipsism I was minding my business In the shopping centre, Surface Paradise The coercion capital When I spotted a crowd Buzzing round a catwalk It was a model search as far as I could tell The stage was full of pretty little ingénues With stage mums hissing encouragement As they tottered back and forth on cantilever shoes Barely clothed, barely sentient The announcer said, "Welcome girls, welcome mums Chanel presents, 'Find a Journaliste' One lucky girl has the chance to become A war correspondent in the middle east Mums and dads Do you hear what I say? In this surface paradise Mums and dads Do you hear what I say? In this surface paradise Yeah, well, I tried to protest but was ineffectual I turned to a judge, I said "I hate to quibble But arent journalists meant to be credible, bespectacled intelectuals? Where's your James Dibble? Where's your James Dibble?" She said, "We're selling Sex and the City out in the suburbs For the aspiration generation to forget their lowly station Where the battlers buy the Beamers and mamas drive the Hummers We put product placement in conversation And anyway, what kind of random are you? Everybody knows you are what you buy As if news is about news Didn't you know the truth has been privatised?" Mums and dads Do you hear what I say? In this surface paradise Mums and dads Do you hear what I say? In this surface paradise Do you let the squeaky wheel get the oil? Do you say perception is reality? Do you suffer a fool if she's a pretty girl? Do you promote youth over ability? Do you swap substance for substances? Do you plumb the depths of your shallowness? Do you think this whole thing is tall poppy syndrome? Then step inside, enjoy the ride You'll feel right at home