One's blurred appearance
exposes the difference
between intention, act and word
all, what's meant to be heard
this play or contest
won't leave me impressed
I've seen the cruddy rest underneath
the immaculate vest
it's all about the seeming
it's not even real
your beauty may be blinding
your speech so eloquent
it's a perfect way of masking
to dress up flamboyant
this play named conquest
won't arouse my interest
I've seen the cruddy rest underneath
the immaculate vest
it's all about the seeming
it's not even real
I don't mind back-slapping friends
but in need, the one holding my hand
not the temporary consolation
but the adversary's adjudication
I don't mind, what money can buy
but an upright life, at least I'll try
I don't mind what you call sex appeal
cause none of this is real
it's all about...