(Eins, zwei, drei, vier) We find our songs In fashion magazines We read the story In the morning paper I touch their hearts And they touch my skin I'm on your screen And you are just so wide Put us on display For everyone to see We write the words For all to understand Though I get my kicks It's slowly wasting me Don't try to be an artist I try to be a man Dead stars still burn Dead stars still burn Dead stars still burn Dead still stars burn We find ourselves In pictures on the net Blinded by science Addicted to devotion I'm in your hold Eager to abuse My favourite game I suffer from misuse I just want to know The man in front of them To read their minds For me to understand Though I get my kicks It's slowly wasting me Don't try to be an artist I try to be a man