mgmt time to pretend

let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives.
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin, and fuck with the stars.
you man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars.
this is our decision, to live fast and die young.
we've got the vision, now let's have some fun.
yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else can we do.
get jobs in offices, and wake up for the morning commute.
forget about our mothers and our friends
we're fated to pretend
there's really nothing, nothing we can do
the models will have children, we'll get a divorce
we'll find some more models, everyting must run it's course.
we'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end
we were fated to pretend