I'm feelin' rough, I'm feelin' wrong in the drama of my life Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives I'll move to Paris, shoot some network, ruffle in the stars You'll be on an island and I'll be in your hand on elegant cars This is our decision to live fast and die young We've got the vision, now let's have some fun Yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else can we do? Get jobs and offices and wake up for the morning commute Forget about our mothers and our friends We're fated to pretend To pretend We're fated to pretend To pretend I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home Yeah, I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone But there is really nothing, nothing we can do Love must be forgotten like in our start-up maneuver For models who have children, get a divorce Find some more models, everything must run its course We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end We're fated to pretend To pretend We're fated to pretend To pretend We're fated to pretend To pretend To pretend