Luyện nghe bài hát Basic Cable

television, all grand pixelated god of
fantasy, scape and perspective
fuck a sore channel digit
I sit a nasty network intervenes plan
with a stable diet of my cable
yo, the is in, the doctor is on
born the bastard son of static radiance to welcome in every home
a blue screen, bruised dream canope
victim of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk team
ooh, I all advertisements
though by robot news casters who capture and pollute
spoon fed hazardous fog to joy catholic squad
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 glamour addict
telecast
blue be the banners, well, sure I'll be a Marine
with a sword and blue 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
sleepin' to miss the AM oasis
my name is a wired heart, sloppy
turn my stilt into my guilt and have a chatter box frame adjacent station
make reality scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden
and loving every of the gimmick, change the channel

plug it in, turn it on, prop me up against the
lights out, I ain't gonna have to leave my house
satellite dish, get up on my wish list, turn me to a
let my clean spirit dissolve 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 blind I'mma do it for the of all television kind
and that's fine, and fine...

make me a star, I wanna touch
me suspended in a dream, mearly inches from the screen
deleted sacrificed to one electron monster
my little future to the monitor
damn it feels good, on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in your function
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
mastered often kill the freak seekers, eyes spiraling
tangled in the star spangled
I can turn toxicated visuals
and all the kings horses abort the loyalty to
fuck the
me with glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my sleeping head
I'll be by morning anyway
color my values with mundane humor in thirty minute
to the magnetic seal picket censorship
I want commercials twenty
I shop from my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, brethren
I with a sick string of correspondent
and lurking circus
allegiance pledged beyond the glass surface
adamant within the fine school of possessed graduate catalysts
zero addict, immaculate
it big screen, little 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 up along the borders of the maze
I wanna see the five day forecast, days in advance
so I can get my two weeks notice every time the sun

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

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

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