You measure the influence
You measure the relevance
You measure the size of the audience
Then treasure it all as guidance

And you lose the dimensions
of what makes a difference
You lose your independence
What a waste, what a waste

You will miss out on the true celebration
arising only behind the scenes
You will miss out on the true celebration
arising only behind the scenes
only behind the scenes

You measure topicality
You measure credibility
You measure the spotlight finding it worthy
Then treasure it all as quality

Suddenly you can't tell apart
The horse feathers and the real feathers
You'll see the bullshit and the rubbish
The nonsense and the gibberish
the claptrap, the trash, the crap
And you believe it's the real shit, oh
because somebody told you so
because somebody measured you
because somebody told you to
compare yourself to
the flow
that will always claim to know
you better that you
and force you to compare
until you disappear
into nothing but tiny a brick in the massive wall
making no difference at all
Being measured as anybody
to fit in
Not treasured as somebody
out-and-out
And you know what it means
You know that it's true
That only behind the scenes
you are you
Which is precious
You are precious