Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all grand pixelated god of
fantasy, murder and perspective
fuck a sore channel changed
I sit with a nasty network intervenes
with a diet of my cable pirate
yo, the is in, the doctor is on
born the bastard son of static radiance to welcome in every home
lead a screen, bruised dream canope
of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk support team
ooh, I all advertisements
though accused by robot news who capture and pollute
spoon fed fog to joy luck catholic squad
take me, please calm me, please make me a zombie
please I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic
now, first century plagued
dispersed to wide eyed addict patients
patrons
blue be the propaganda banners, well, sure be a Marine
with a clean sword and uniform, it only takes a dollar and a dream
and I great idiot box power supply, fuzz vapor,
black out of New York, hey honey, get the
I'm in a doom, generation, pacin', ancient electric secret
never sleepin' to the AM oasis
my name is a heart, sloppy obligation
turn my stilt into my and have a chatter box blame frame adjacent station
make reality scrambled and the life out of a hidden vandal
and loving every of the gimmick, change the channel

it in, turn it on, prop me up against the couch
lights out, I ain't ever gonna have to my house
satellite dish, get up on my wish list, turn me to a
let my clean spirit through the appliance

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

make me a star, I wanna gold
hold me suspended in a dream, mearly from the screen
passions sacrificed to one electron monster
crucify my future to the monitor
damn it good, turn on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in your function
but the seem to love it
yes mother, me and discovery
and heard the flock to where I sleep
by the glow of that box big speaker
stereo mastered often kill the seekers, eyes spiraling
tangled in the star wiring
I can from toxicated visuals
and all the horses abort the loyalty to royalty
fuck the
riddle me with glee, hoist the end all telepromter my sleeping head
be dead by morning anyway
color my values with mundane in thirty minute tickets
to feel the magnetic seal picket
I want commercials twenty
I shop from my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, underpaid
I bond with a sick of correspondent
and lurking circus
with allegiance pledged the glass surface
adamant students within the fine school of possessed catalysts
channel zero addict,
it goes- big screen, screen, any screen'll do
just let me hold the controller and I have to murder you

plug it in, turn it on, let my little glaze
twenty screens lined up along the borders of the
I wanna see the day forecast, fourteen days in advance
so I can get my two notice every time the sun dance

plug it in, turn it on, silent fix better nothing
let a once divine soul feel the functions of the
the viciousness, ridiculous, peaking a interest
touch the power button meet your maker, ain't that

it in, turn it on, say goodbye to Sunday afternoon
fix the antenna, sit back and let disaster
it's a sight, with a most ugly intention
but I taste it everyday and bathe inside the

plug it in, it on, never once have you talked back to me
your majesty, I love you, I you
my is sitcom, soaps, news, bad dramatization
come along with me, my for the most glorious sensation