Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all grand pixelated god of
fantasy, murder scape and
a sore channel changed digit
I sit with a nasty intervenes plan
a stable diet of my cable pirate
yo, the doctor is in, the is on
born the bastard son of static radiance cloned to welcome in home
a blue screen, bruised dream canope
victim of the nursed Technicolor drunk support team
ooh, I love all
though accused by news casters who capture and pollute
spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic
please take me, please calm me, please me a zombie
please I want to my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit
now, twenty century plagued
dispersed to wide eyed addict patients
patrons
blue be the propaganda banners, well, sure be a Marine
with a clean and blue uniform, it only takes a dollar and a dream
and I abide great idiot box power supply, vapor,
out of New York, hey honey, get the generator
I'm in a doom, doom generation, pacin', ancient secret
sleepin' to miss the AM oasis
my name is a wired heart, obligation
turn my stilt into my guilt and have a chatter box frame adjacent station
make scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal
and loving every minute of the gimmick, change the

it in, turn it on, prop me up against the couch
lights out, I ever gonna have to leave my house
satellite dish, get up on my wish list, me to a tyrant
let my clean spirit dissolve through the

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

make me a star, I touch gold
hold me suspended in a dream, mearly from the screen
passions sacrificed to one electron monster
crucify my little future to the
damn it good, turn on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in your function
but the children to love it
yes mother, me and wild
and heard the static flock to where I
by the glow of that box big speaker
stereo mastered often kill the seekers, eyes spiraling
in the star spangled wiring
I can from toxicated visuals
and all the kings horses abort the to royalty
the fortress
riddle me with glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my head
I'll be dead by morning
color my values with mundane humor in thirty tickets
to feel the magnetic seal picket
I want twenty four-seven
I wanna from my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, underpaid
I bond a sick string of correspondent
and circuitry circus
with allegiance beyond the glass surface
adamant students the fine school of possessed graduate catalysts
channel zero addict,
it big screen, little screen, any screen'll do
just let me the controller and I won't have to murder you

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

plug it in, it on, silent fix better than nothing
let a once soul feel the functions of the hypnotist
the viciousness, ridiculous, a dummy's interest
the power button meet your maker, ain't that something?

plug it in, turn it on, say goodbye to Sunday
fix the antenna, sit back and let bloom
a beautiful sight, with a most ugly intention
but I taste it and bathe inside the consequences

plug it in, turn it on, once have you talked back to me
your majesty, I you, I despise you
my everyday is sitcom, soaps, news, bad
come along with me, my friend for the glorious sensation