Our drug of choice
Sex is currencyI have been waiting for sooooooooooooooooooooo long for someone to write a song with this message. I'm sure I'm not the only one tired of seeing sex treated like a product (so many other things are. Have we had enough yet?); like a drug. Unfortunately, there aren't many artists who are a) aware of the problem, b) ignoring the problem c) reveling in the problem or d) lacking the guts to raise a fuss about the problem. There are perhaps three bands that I know of who have managed to be both Christian and mainstream at the same time, and one of them has finally gotten up on the soapbox and airhorned this crucial truth to an oblivious populace. Unfortunately, this song did not turn into a hit single to get years' worth of radio time (not that anyone expected it to).
She sells cars,
She sells magazines
Addictive, bittersweet, clap your hands,
with the hopeless nicotines
Everyone's a lost romantic,
Since our love became a kissing show
Everyone's a Casanova,
Come and pass me the mistletoe
Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone
She is easier to love
It's easier to lie
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?
Were is my soul?
Sex is industry,
The CEO, of corporate policy
Skin-deep ministry,
Suburban youth, hailing so-called liberty
Every advertising antic,
Our banner waves with a neon glow
War and love become pedantic,
We wage love with the mistletoe
Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone
She, is easier to love
It's easier to lie
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?
Were is my soul?
It's easier to love,
It's easier to love
It's easier to love,
It's easier to love
She, is easier to love,
It's easier to, love
Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone,
alone
(Sing)
It's easier to love,
It's easier to love,
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier to leave,
It's easier to lie,
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?
Where is my soul? (Where is my?)
Where is my soul?
However, the point is that someone had the guts to tell people--quite baldly with all symbolism and subtlety aside--that SEX IS NOT A TOY.
Capisce?