Questo sito contribuisce alla audience di

    Television, all hail grand pixelated god of
    Fantasy, murder scape and perspective
    Fuck a sore channel changed digit
    I sit with a nasty network intervenes plan
    With a stable diet of my cable pirate
    Yo, the doctor is in, the doctor is on
    Born the bastard son of static radiance cloned to welcome in every home
    Lead a blue screen, bruised dream canope
    Victim of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk support team
    Ooh, I love all advertisements
    Though accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute
    Spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic squad
    Please take me, please calm me, please make me a zombie
    Please I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit
    Now, twenty first century plagued
    Dispersed to wide eyed glamour addict patients
    Telecast patrons
    Blue be the propaganda banners, well, sure I'll be a Marine
    With a clean sword and blue uniform, it only takes a dollar and a dream
    And I abide great idiot box power supply, fuzz vapor,
    Black out of New York, hey honey, get the generator
    I'm in a doom, doom generation, pacin', ancient electric secret
    Never sleepin' to miss the AM oasis
    My name is a wired heart, sloppy obligation
    Turn my stilt into my guilt and have a chatter box blame frame adjacent station
    Make reality scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal
    And loving every minute of the gimmick, change the channel

    Plug it in, turn it on, prop me up against the couch
    Lights out, I ain't ever gonna have to leave my house
    Satellite dish, get up on my wish list, turn me to a tyrant
    Let my clean spirit dissolve through the appliance

    Plug it in, turn it on, be my mother when she's gone, great
    Wipe the spittle off my chinny-chin during the breaks
    If I gotta go blind I'mma do it for the love of all television kind
    And that's fine, and that's fine...

    Make me a star, I wanna touch gold
    Hold me suspended in a dream, mearly inches from the screen
    Deleted passions sacrificed to one electron monster
    Crucify my little future to the monitor
    Damn it feels good, turn on, tune in
    Zoom in to hug the bug up in your family function
    But the children seem to love it
    Yes mother, me and wild discovery
    And heard the static flock to where I sleep
    By the glow of that magic box big speaker
    Stereo mastered often kill the freak seekers, eyes spiraling
    Tangled in the star spangled wiring
    I can turn from toxicated visuals
    And all the kings horses abort the loyalty to royalty
    Fuck the fortress
    Riddle me with glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my sleeping head
    I'll be dead by morning anyway
    Color my values with mundane humor in thirty minute tickets
    To feel the magnetic seal picket censorship
    I want commercials twenty four-seven
    I wanna shop from my bed and set an
    Example for all my overworked, underpaid brethren
    I bond with a sick string of correspondent
    And lurking circuitry circus
    With allegiance pledged beyond the glass surface
    Adamant students within the fine school of possessed graduate catalysts
    Channel zero addict, immaculate
    It goes- big screen, little screen, any screen'll do
    Just let me hold the controller and I won't have to murder you

    Plug it in, turn it on, let my little eyes glaze
    Twenty screens lined up along the borders of the maze
    I wanna see the five day forecast, fourteen days in advance
    So I can get my two weeks notice every time the sun dance

    Plug it in, turn it on, silent fix better than nothing
    Let a once divine soul feel the functions of the hypnotist
    The viciousness, ridiculous, peaking a dummy's interest
    Touch the power button meet your maker, ain't that something?

    Plug it in, turn it on, say goodbye to Sunday afternoon
    Fix the antenna, sit back and let disaster bloom
    It's a beautiful sight, with a most ugly intention
    But I taste it everyday and bathe inside the consequences

    Plug it in, turn it on, never once have you talked back to me
    Your majesty, I love you, I despise you
    My everyday is sitcom, soaps, news, bad dramatization
    Come along with me, my friend for the most glorious sensation

    Cosa ne pensi di "Basic Cable" di Aesop Rock?

    Vota la canzone

    Fai sapere ai tuoi amici che ti piace:

      Acquista l'album


      Invia il tuo commento

      Disclaimer [leggi/nascondi]

      Guida alla scrittura dei commenti