Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all hail grand god of
fantasy, murder scape and
fuck a sore changed digit
I sit with a nasty network plan
with a diet of my cable pirate
yo, the doctor is in, the is on
born the son of static radiance cloned to welcome in every home
lead a blue screen, bruised canope
victim of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk support
ooh, I all advertisements
though by robot news casters who capture and pollute
spoon fed fog to joy luck catholic squad
please take me, please calm me, please make me a
please I want to donate my brain to the Panasonic profit
now, first century plagued
to wide eyed glamour addict patients
telecast
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 abide great idiot box power supply, vapor,
out of New York, hey honey, get the generator
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 scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal
and every minute of the gimmick, change the channel

plug it in, turn it on, prop me up 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

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

make me a star, I touch gold
hold me in a dream, mearly inches from the screen
deleted passions to one electron monster
my little future to the monitor
damn it feels good, turn on, in
zoom in to hug the bug up in family function
but the seem to love it
yes mother, me and discovery
and heard the static flock to I sleep
by the of that magic box big speaker
stereo often kill the freak seekers, eyes spiraling
tangled in the spangled wiring
I can turn toxicated visuals
and all the kings horses the loyalty to royalty
the fortress
riddle me glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my sleeping head
I'll be dead by anyway
color my values mundane humor in thirty minute tickets
to feel the magnetic seal censorship
I want twenty four-seven
I wanna shop my bed and set an
for all my overworked, underpaid brethren
I bond with a sick of correspondent
and lurking circuitry
allegiance pledged beyond the glass surface
adamant students within the fine school of graduate catalysts
channel addict, immaculate
it goes- big screen, screen, any screen'll do
just let me hold the controller and I won't have to you

plug it in, turn it on, let my eyes glaze
twenty screens lined up along the of the maze
I wanna see the five day forecast, fourteen days in
so I can get my two weeks notice every 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, peaking a dummy's
touch the power 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 everyday and bathe inside the

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