He wants to be a president
A supermodern hero
To be the object of delight
And always have a cash
And every day he works so hard
And terrorizes mirror
He could become an emperor
(the emperor of trash)
She wants to be a superstar
To pose for “Cosmo” cover
To shine in high society
And always have success
That’s cool, but all in all
She’s taking a back-number
No individuality
Just mess and noise and stress
I have my holy ganja smoke
I act as a spectator
Is there a role I’d like to play?
What business should I run?
As I don’t wanna cringe to you
And be a bullshit-maker
I want to be a camomile
And always smile to Sun