It locks us in our bedroom
With no way to get out
It forces us to idolize
Only what we read about
Or we see on TV
Ionesco, Bond, and Beckett
Mueller, Havel, Genet,
They all tried to write about it
In the characters of their plays
A dying art form.
They partially foresaw the future
They took a stab at the cause
So we wouldn't have to snack on the breadcrumbs
Dropped down from above
When we all get dirty
It takes away our bodies
Then it takes away our sight
This machine wasn't built by humans
But it'll run off of all our strife
We give it power
We give it power...
We're the only ones who keep it running
With no way to get out
It forces us to idolize
Only what we read about
Or we see on TV
Ionesco, Bond, and Beckett
Mueller, Havel, Genet,
They all tried to write about it
In the characters of their plays
A dying art form.
They partially foresaw the future
They took a stab at the cause
So we wouldn't have to snack on the breadcrumbs
Dropped down from above
When we all get dirty
It takes away our bodies
Then it takes away our sight
This machine wasn't built by humans
But it'll run off of all our strife
We give it power
We give it power...
We're the only ones who keep it running
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