transfixated on the big blue screen, it's your window to the outside, a
melancholy dream, a medium upon which you build reality, this episodic
currency, that everybody needs somebody's delivery lulls you to sleep,
the man behind the weather map, the editor in chief, they control two
worlds, power and disease, and you cannot suppress your curiosity but see
it's only entertainment, superficial urgency, posterboard mentality, only
entertainment, tightly constrained, the buzz that remains, is the story of
how we run our lives many are the people poor and suffering, from the lack
of coverage, from the transmission beam, and if it ever gets here, you'll
be offended too, 'cause you cannot distinguish, chicanery from truth, see
it's only entertainment, a superficial episode, as life continues to
unfold, only entertainment, controlled an copied, they've planted the
seed, that sprouts into your picture of the world, can't someone protect
me (turn away, turn away), from this electron beam, hey you, mr.fcc, have
you no advice for me?
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