Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all hail pixelated god of
fantasy, murder scape and
fuck a sore changed digit
I sit a nasty network intervenes plan
with a stable of my cable pirate
yo, the is in, the doctor is on
born the bastard son of static radiance cloned to welcome in home
lead a blue screen, bruised dream
victim of the cursed Technicolor drunk support team
ooh, I all advertisements
accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute
spoon fed hazardous fog to joy catholic squad
please take me, please calm me, make me a zombie
please I want to my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit
now, twenty first century
dispersed to eyed glamour addict patients
patrons
blue be the propaganda banners, well, I'll be a Marine
with a clean sword and blue uniform, it only 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', electric secret
never sleepin' to the AM oasis
my name is a heart, sloppy obligation
turn my stilt into my guilt and a chatter box blame frame adjacent station
make reality scrambled and the life out of a hidden vandal
and loving every minute of the gimmick, the channel

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

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

make me a star, I wanna gold
hold me suspended in a dream, mearly inches from the
deleted passions to one electron monster
crucify my little to the monitor
damn it feels good, on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in your family
but the children seem to it
yes mother, me and wild
and heard the static flock to I sleep
by the of that magic box big speaker
stereo mastered often the freak seekers, eyes spiraling
tangled in the star wiring
I can turn from toxicated
and all the kings 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 humor in thirty minute
to feel the magnetic seal picket
I commercials twenty four-seven
I wanna shop my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, brethren
I bond with a sick of correspondent
and lurking circuitry
with allegiance pledged beyond the surface
adamant students within the fine of possessed graduate catalysts
channel zero addict,
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, it on, let my little eyes glaze
twenty screens lined up the borders of the maze
I wanna see the day forecast, fourteen days in advance
so I can get my two weeks notice every time the sun

plug it in, turn it on, silent fix better than
let a once divine feel the functions of the hypnotist
the viciousness, ridiculous, a dummy's interest
touch the power button meet maker, ain't that something?

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

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