Plastic Lyrics

Dead City Dealers Plastic

She's pretentious, a hip agnostic
You best friend if you can get good weed
She's a writer, kinda plastic
Convoluted, yet so pristine

Chorus:
She reads Nietzsche in the middle of a donut shop
Wannabe Bohemian who works in a coffee shop
She's god's gift to all the emo boys
That ain't me, Oi! Oi! Oi!

She likes indie bands and bad poetry
She'll like anything that gives her credibility
She's a feminist
An existentialist
A hipster fascist, and that's why she isn't into me

(Chorus)

She's at the Beehive Smokin' Pall Mall cigarettes
Ramen noodles is the new hip meal
Went to a record store for Captain Beefheart
But then she settled for Captain and Tinnille

(Chorus)