(Intro) We're the perfect fit, tailored and clean The smoothest smile you have ever seen We're the fantasy you want to buy Just try not to look us in the eye (Verse 1) Yeah, the contract says five-part harmony, the manual says trousers too tight We got the perfect middle part, yeah, we got the bleached tips shining bright They told us, "Stick to the script, stay synchronized in the light!" We got the token bad boy and the one who can't speak at all—check, that's right We stand here perfectly dressed, symmetrical and bland Playing the hand-wave choreography that the whole world demands They bought the CD, they bought the poster, they bought the whole damn lie This isn't music, it's a product launch right before your eye (Pre-Chorus) They put us on the magazine cover, they called us a golden crew They thought the pretty packaging was the only thing you'd listen to We look like a million bucks, but we feel like absolute dirt We're here to sell the illusion, and then sell you the hurt (Chorus) We're the boy band around the block! (Yeah!) — But the block is on fire We're synchronized failures, climbing higher and higher We look like a dream, but we sound like a warning—do not buy We're the corporate machine wrapped around a cynical, perfect lie Perfect! Plastic! Loud! (Verse 2) I see the crowds, they're screaming, they bought the millennium vibe scene They want the synchronized step and the matching distressed denim routine But the reality's chaos, the backstage is just a mess We're running on bubblegum pop and the absolute weight of this imposed success We have the same key change, same smooth vocal run we practice Beneath the image, every single one of us is an axis Of pure, unfiltered frustration, counting down to the final crash The falsetto bridge disguised as an expensive, high-speed flash (Pre-Chorus) They put us on the magazine cover, they called us a golden crew They thought the pretty packaging was the only thing you'd listen to We look like a million bucks, but we feel like absolute dirt We're here to sell the illusion, and then sell you the hurt (Chorus) We're the boy band around the block! (Yeah!) — But the block is on fire We're synchronized failures, climbing higher and higher We look like a dream, but we sound like a warning—do not buy We're the corporate machine wrapped around a cynical, perfect lie Perfect! Plastic! Loud! (Bridge) We're the perfect fit, tailored and clean No, we’re not! We're the beautiful, broken sound The last four cynical failures still standing on the ground (Chorus) We're the boy band around the block! (Yeah!) — But the block is on fire We're synchronized failures, climbing higher and higher We look like a dream, but we sound like a warning—do not buy We're the corporate machine wrapped around a cynical, perfect lie Perfect! Plastic! Loud!
