Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all grand pixelated god of
fantasy, scape and perspective
fuck a channel changed digit
I sit with a nasty intervenes plan
with a stable diet of my 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
victim of the cursed nursed drunk support team
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
I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit
now, twenty first century
to wide eyed glamour addict patients
telecast
blue be the propaganda banners, well, I'll 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, doom generation, pacin', ancient secret
never sleepin' to the AM oasis
my name is a heart, sloppy obligation
turn my stilt into my guilt and have a box blame frame adjacent station
reality scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal
and loving every minute of the gimmick, change the

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

plug it in, turn it on, be my mother she's gone, great
wipe the spittle off my chinny-chin during the
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 touch
hold me suspended in a dream, mearly inches the screen
deleted passions sacrificed to one monster
crucify my future to the monitor
it feels good, turn on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in family function
but the children to love it
yes mother, me and wild
and heard the static to where I sleep
by the glow of that box big speaker
stereo mastered often kill the freak seekers, eyes
in the star spangled wiring
I can turn from visuals
and all the horses abort the loyalty to royalty
the fortress
riddle me glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my sleeping head
be dead by morning anyway
color my values mundane humor in thirty minute tickets
to feel the magnetic seal censorship
I want commercials four-seven
I wanna from my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, brethren
I with a sick string of correspondent
and circuitry circus
allegiance pledged beyond the glass surface
adamant students within the fine of possessed graduate catalysts
channel addict, immaculate
it goes- big screen, little screen, any do
let me hold the controller and I won't have to murder you

plug it in, turn it on, let my little eyes
twenty screens up along the borders of the maze
I see the five 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 than nothing
let a once divine soul feel the functions of the
the viciousness, ridiculous, a dummy's interest
touch the button meet your maker, ain't that something?

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

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