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Artificial Life Lyrics
All the boys are wearing their utility drag
The girls slip identikits from their utility bags
Some refugees from suburbia are laughing
Examining each other's gags
Vibrate on sulphate when it gets late
And their velocity begins to sag
[chorus]
And it goes on all night...all night
And it goes on and on, the artificial life
Mary Mary got so confused
About the fusion game (what a game)
Blunked on booze; she talks like a newsreel
She'll take up any kind of bleak exchange
She turned to perfection once
But realised she'd only turned to pain
She ran through divine light, chemicals, Warhol, Scientology, her own sex
Before she turned away
[repeat chorus]
I've learned to be a stranger
I've learned to be a stranger
I've learned to be a stranger
I've learned to be a stranger
(Stranger still)
I should have left here years ago
But my imagination won't tell me how
This whirlpool's got such seductive furniture
It's so pleasant getting drowned
So we drink and sink and talk and stalk with
Interchangeable enemies and friends
Trying on each other's skins
While we're dying to be born again
The girls slip identikits from their utility bags
Some refugees from suburbia are laughing
Examining each other's gags
Vibrate on sulphate when it gets late
And their velocity begins to sag
And it goes on all night...all night
And it goes on and on, the artificial life
About the fusion game (what a game)
Blunked on booze; she talks like a newsreel
She'll take up any kind of bleak exchange
She turned to perfection once
But realised she'd only turned to pain
She ran through divine light, chemicals, Warhol, Scientology, her own sex
Before she turned away
I've learned to be a stranger
I've learned to be a stranger
I've learned to be a stranger
(Stranger still)
But my imagination won't tell me how
This whirlpool's got such seductive furniture
It's so pleasant getting drowned
So we drink and sink and talk and stalk with
Interchangeable enemies and friends
Trying on each other's skins
While we're dying to be born again
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dates back to '77...a frighteningly accurate portrait, still, of any "scene" you care to name. I know of a few whose names I try to remember, because not much else of them is left.