Reminds me of this:
I bought you mail-order
My plain wrapper baby
Your skin is like vinyl
The perfect companion
You float in my new pool
De luxe and delightful
Inflatable Doll
My role is to serve you
[...]
Immortal and life size
My breath is inside you
I'll dress you up daily
[...]
Inflatable doll
Lover ungrateful
I blew up your body
But you blew my mind
Which reminds me of this:
Sunday morning with the New York Times
The sun is shining in my penthouse suite
My lady love is laying down some lines
They reach from Culver Beach to Easy Street
Before the mirror you apply your cream
Cosmetic secret of eternal youth
There's something the matter, no, it's just a bad dream
I know you'd leave me if you knew the truth.
I might as well be on Mars
I might as well be on Mars
Only the stars mean anything to you
I might as well be on Mars
I might as well be on Mars
I'm already that far away from you.
We lead such a sweet existence
But I'm reaching out to you in vain
You're disappearing in the distance
Of this alien terrain.
Of this alien terrain.
Sunday morning with the New York Times
The sun is shining in my penthouse suite
My lady loving down some lines
Miami Beach to Easy Street
Monday night, another day goes by
Your voice keeps telling me that life is sweet
You watch your star flash into the sky
And fall to earth again on Easy Street.
I might as well be on Mars
I might as well be on Mars
Only the stars mean anything to you
I might as well be on Mars
I might as well be on Mars
I'm already that far away from you.
I'm already that far away from you.
I'm already that far away from you.
I'm already that far away
I'm already that far away from you.
I'm already that far away from you.
I might as well be on Mars