The 42nd Street Singers - Artificial

Shine on me brightly the minstrel sounds at last
Make forth the colors
Orange Sundays of the past
Sci-fi skies of lightning
Like a fireworks attraction
Like a tainted plum
An offbeat drum
The windows of your ears
Elevate your fears

Climb on this old heaven
Just remember baby it's artificial
Baby it's just artificial that's all
Baby it's just artificial that's all

A scholar reflected in the mirror as he wrote your poem
It's time to grow on everyone
And for everyone to grow
Your high wire chance flirtation
Bears the scars of your reaction
Pink skies will come
The birds will hum
Their sweetness in your ears
Poisoning all your fears

Climb on this new heaven
Remember baby it's not artificial
Baby this one's not artificial at all
Baby it's not artificial at all

Wake up to a fresh new day
Your heaven's been reborn
The skies are filled with joyous song
The seeds of joy are near you
The windows have all been cleared
Roll back your toil and anger the back pages you have feared
The angels have your back now
Spreading hope in your direction
Spring has sprung, the birds who hum
Complete this with their own cheers

And now that you've found heaven
Just remember baby it's not artificial
Baby it's not artificial
Baby it's not artificial at all
Baby it's not artificial at all

Written by:
Michael Varela, Ron Ciancioso

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, VARELA PUBLISHING, Exploration Group LLC

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