Recorded at Musicol Studios by Doug Edwards. Produced by Billy Zenn. Frank Lapinski (drums), Billy Zenn (bass), Jeff Dalrymple (electric guitar), Joy Hall (backing vocals).
Lyrics
There’s beauty in all kinds of places
From behind the lens of your naked eye
And deceit can be found in all the pretty faces
And together they can paint you a sweet little lie
Then they fill the pages of your magazine
And you broadcast for the whole wide world to see
With the spin and shuffle and mirrors and hustle and all the smoke that’s blown
Even you are fooled by the pictures you’ve painted of me.
And you’re lost, you’re lost, you’re lost, you’re lost
Inside your magazine
You’re lost, you’re lost, you’re lost, you’re lost
Inside your magazine.
There’s hunger in the eyes of the wanting
Such a burning desire to capture what you see
But only sorrow after all this hunting
Then you fill in the blanks and make it everything you need
Then you turn the page of your magazine
Oh how I wish they were true
Lord, I spent so much time so many hours so many days helping you with this scheme
So yes I guess it’s true I was spinning this story with you.
Now I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m lost
Inside your magazine
I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m lost
You’re wearing my heart out there on your sleeve
You’re walking the world by the hand down to your land of make-believe
You toss me down the rabbit hole
Winding and spinning how far does this go
You put me in your magazine, I say,
Is this the bed of your pick up truck or the back of a limousine?
We’re lost, we’re lost, we’re lost, we’re lost
Inside your magazine
We’re lost, we’re lost, we’re lost, we’re lost
Inside your magazine.