Miss America

Miss America lapses in and out of consciousness 
As she floats down the catwalk 
She often sleepwalks; her dreams are diminished 
Her ideals have vanished 
Her kisses are no longer free 
She works the seedy side of reality TV 
Her pimp owns the pageant 
He wears a bronze mask 
His platinum blond hair shimmers under the hot TV lights 
He pontificates beneath that halo 
He states that he’ll kill, deport or jail all the shadows in his way 
The headlines are depressing 
The news of despair is everywhere 
Gossip, rumors and innuendo rule 
We often sleepwalk; our dreams are diminished 
No one buys our kisses and nothing is free 
Here on the seedy side of reality TV