This is Picture Perfect Land
Where no one ever frowns
So sink your toes into the sand
Of this painted cardboard town
I hope you find it pleasing
For the ground is made of glue
No, you won\'t be leaving
For this place now has a part of you
Don\'t you try to scream
It\'s a futile waste of air
Note the carefully stitched seams
Along your lips, eyes, and hair
You\'re suddenly quite make-believe
Your unused eyes are made of glass
How could you ever think to leave
When your brain has turned to brass
We have everything you need
Granted, it isn\'t much
What does it take to feed
A plastic soul cold to the touch
Nothing ever goes wrong here
As long as you look to the right
There\'s really nothing at all to fear
Though the left is not a pretty sight
You\'re a lucky one, you should know
Not everyone has a place
The others, all they do is go
Claiming \"dreams\" are what they chase
But they\'re the poor souls, believe it or not
You, my painted doll, have it made
Sure, they have a chance, a try, a shot
But you will never have to feel afraid
In fact, you\'ll never feel a thing
No joy, no shock, no pride
All those moods are just suffering
Emptiness is a more comfortable ride
So let your bones turn to wire
And your golden locks to yarn
Close your glass beads, you must be tired
You\'ve traveled so very far
I hope you like where you stand
And approve of how you\'re dressed
For you have reached your Picture Perfect Land
And you are a permanent guest