We're world industry's thought lords, the entertainment wing
We keep you all in line by fixing your free will
Surround you with pop fantasies just slightly out of reach
To soften all the blows of your forced daily routine
We strip mine your underground culture
Take the bite out and rinse it clean
Give ourselves credit for creating it
Then sell it back to you at twice the price
Our pool of talent vampires has blown into your town
To dazzle, sign and milk you all strictly on our terms
You think you've got a lot to say, we'll change that real soon
You're not a person anymore, we've made you a cartoon
By the time we're through remolding you
You won't even recognize your face
There's no end to the eager beavers
Drawn the moths to our Babylon's mirage
Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
They all want to do the fleshdance
Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
Who all want to do the fleshdance
Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
They all want to do the fleshdance
Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
Who all want to do the fleshdance
