| There’s a message coming to me on my TV screen,
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| Every time I try to turn it off.
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| It tells me I’m inferior and incomplete,
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| And I’m a fool for being satisfied with what I’ve got.
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| White noise, white noise.
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| Carrying the poison to the girls and boys.
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| There’s a message coming to me when my cellphone rings,
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| To remind me that I’m never alone.
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| They say the radiation will kill me eventually,
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| Along with every machine that I own.
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| White noise, white noise.
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| Carrying the poison to the girls and the boys.
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| There are natives living in the jungle,
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| Running wild and naked through the trees.
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| There are satellites above tracking every move,
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| To calculate how to sell them what they’ll never need.
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| White noise, white noise.
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| Carrying the poison to the girls and the boys |