Stereotype money making machines    Butter wouldn't melt in their mouth    They got someone punching all the right numbers    Tattooed gimmicks, oh, hear how they scream    Seen on the pages of those corporate glossies    The bullshit that's churned out of the money making machine    They’re programmed to be the next big thing    I'm telling you all, don't believe everything that you read       This talent don't mean a thing    Technology paving the way    Every dog has its day       All monkey see, monkey do    Run it up the flag pole now, see who salutes    The feeble message of their means    Portrayal of some adolescent pop star dream    A shooting star, hit and run    Fed it all with the silver spoon, all hail the chosen one    Corporate music, human feeling left out    Insulting my intelligence every time they open their mouth       This talent don't mean a thing    Technology paving the way    Every dog has its day       Body guard, credit card    Expense account, why am I missing out ?    Maybe I don't look quite as good, but they all say    Every dog will have its day       They all got the look, clean cut, designer label style    On the cover of every glossy magazine    They're programmed to be the next big thing    Think for yourself and don't believe everything that you read, no no no no no       No individuality    Talent lost along the way    Emotionally automated    Blind faith follows their way    Every dog has its day