Why do you buy What the world says It thinks you should be? Living your life through the pages Of some magazine? Why try to have it all right now? Why leave behind what is real For store-bought treasures?
Chorus: The dream's not true The dream won't last You're just building your life On illusion Those things will lie Those things will pass They will shatter like walls Made of glass
Not satisfied with the things That are placed in your hands Preoccupied with the fantasies Of what you'll have Why judge your worth By what you own? Why do you fall for the lie That 'more is better'?