Fuck Machine

[Verse 1]
It's something physical, conditioned reaction
And it's something physical, conditioned attraction
But have I finally escaped?
Will my eyes no longer rape the innocent?
Women, children, human beings
Seeing the pain that it brings
Shallow, superficial decision
Real beauty obscured by my television

[Verse 2]
But this just in, bikini film at ten
The female anchor just smiles and shrugs it off
Boys will be boys
Do you really wanna be our fucking toys?

[Verse 3]
And yet again, condone it with a grin
Just sit back, idly chat, smile
Prove you're just a fuck machine
Is that what you really wanna fucking be?

[Bridge]
Conditioned reaction
Conditioned attraction
Conditioned suggestion
Conditioned rejection

[Verse 4]
And yet again
Subjecting women
The female anchor's fists finally clenched
I'm not your fucking toy!

[Outro]
And though I long to embrace
I will not misplace priorities
Humour, opinion, a sense of compassion
Creativity and a distaste for fashion