Television, all hail grand pixelated god of

Fantasy, murder scape bent perspective

Fuck a sore channel changed digit

I sit with a nasty network intravenous plan

With a stable diet of my cable pirate

Yo, the doctor is in, the doctor is on

Born the bastard son of static radiance cloned to welcome in every home

Lead a blue screen, bruised dream canopy

Victim of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk support team

Ooh, I love all advertisements

Though accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute

Spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic squad

Please take me, please calm me, please make me a zombie

Please I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit

Now, twenty first century plagued

Dispersed to wide eyed glamour addict patients

Telecast patrons

Blue be the propaganda banners, well, sure I'll be a Marine

With a clean sword and blue uniform, it only takes a dollar and a dream

And I abide great idiot box power supply, fuzz vapor

Black out of New York, hey honey, get the generator

I'm in a doom, doom generation, pacin', ancient electric secret

Never sleepin' to miss the AM oasis

My name is a wired heart, sloppy obligation

Turn my stilt into my guilt and have a chatter box blame frame adjacent station

Make reality scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal

And loving every minute of the gimmick, change the channel

Plug it in, turn it on, prop me up against the couch

Lights out, I ain't ever gonna have to leave my house

Satellite dish, get up on my wish list, turn me to a tyrant

Let my clean spirit dissolve through the appliance

Plug it in, turn it on, be my mother when she's gone, great

Wipe the spittle off my chinny-chin during the breaks

If I gotta go blind I'mma do it for the love of all television kind

And that's fine, and that's fine...

Make me a star, I wanna touch gold

Hold me suspended in a dream, merely inches from the screen

Deleted passions sacrificed to one electron monster

Crucify my little future to the monitor

Damn it feels good, turn on, tune in

Zoom in to hug the bug up in your family function

But the children seem to love it

Yes mother, me and wild discovery

And heard the static flock to where I sleep

By the glow of that magic box big speaker

Stereo mastered often kill the freak seekers, eyes spiraling

Tangled in the star spangled wiring

I can turn from toxicated visuals

And all the kings horses abort the loyalty to royalty

Fuck the fortress

Riddle me with glee, hoist the end all teleprompter above my sleeping head

I'll be dead by morning anyway

Color my values with mundane humor in thirty minute tickets

To feel the magnetic seal picket censorship

I want commercials twenty four-seven

I wanna shop from my bed and set an

Example for all my overworked, underpaid brethren

I bond with a six stringed correspondence

And lurking circuitry circus

With allegiance pledged beyond the glass surface

Adamant students within the fine school of possessed graduate catalysts

Channel zero addict, immaculate

It goes- big screen, little screen, any screen'll do

Just let me hold the controller and I won't have to murder you

Plug it in, turn it on, let my little eyes glaze

Twenty screens lined up along the borders of the maze

I wanna see the five day forecast, fourteen days in advance

So I can get my two weeks notice every time the sun dance

Plug it in, turn it on, silent flicks better than nothing

Let a once divine soul feel the functions of the hypnotist

The viciousness, ridiculous, peaking a dummy's interest

Touch the power button meet your maker, ain't that something?

Plug it in, turn it on, say goodbye to Sunday afternoon

Fix the antenna, sit back and let disaster bloom

It's a beautiful sight, with a most ugly intention

But I taste it everyday and bathe inside the consequences

Plug it in, turn it on, never once have you talked back to me

Your majesty, I love you, I despise you

My everyday is sitcom, soaps, news, bad dramatization

Come along with me, my friend for the most glorious sensation