Robots

This morning I've got a hangover

And I've discovered my money's over

That's ok cause there's little favors and credit card

And I'm getting naked on my yard

I hope salad for lunch cause I don't want extra-weight

I want a plastic surgery and never look like sixty-eight

I wanna be thin and blond like you

Someone told me I should get out of blue

Let me get into your ferrari

Take me out for an yacht ride

I'll let you touch my body

I assure I'll reduce my pride

You've never seen me on stages

You've never seen me on the magazine

I'm always on last pages

And I don't have a "fan machine"

I feel so sad and that's all

But it will pass

Oh, it will pass

Tonight I'm going to the mall