| Step up and forfeit your frontal lobe
|
| To the sexed up strobe of celebrity
|
| Never mind that the nanoseconds in between
|
| Are some of the darkest darkness you’ve ever seen
|
| Keep your eye on my finger
|
| And listen to the sound of my voice
|
| Get your subliminal decree and your false security
|
| Be all that you can be
|
| Be all that you can be
|
| In hospitals and schools
|
| Airports and banks and bars
|
| Big ones on street corners
|
| Little ones driving by in cars
|
| Glowing through countless
|
| Bedroom curtains at night
|
| That 20k tone
|
| And that pale blue light
|
| Saying
|
| Daddy knows best
|
| Yes, this is the news
|
| In 90-second segments
|
| Officially produced
|
| And aired again and again and again
|
| By the little black and white pawns
|
| Of the network yes men
|
| While the stars are going out
|
| And the stripes are getting bent
|
| Cancer, the great teacher
|
| Has been opening schools
|
| Downstream from every factory
|
| Still, everywhere fools
|
| Are squinting into microscopes
|
| Researching cells
|
| Trying to figure out a way
|
| We can all live in hell
|
| Well
|
| Step back
|
| Look up
|
| You’ll see i’m dimming the sun
|
| But you won’t, will you?
|
| No, that’s a good little one
|
| Cuz daddy knows best
|
| Yes, this is the news
|
| In 90-second segments
|
| Officially produced
|
| And aired again and again and again
|
| By the little black and white pawns
|
| Of the network yes men
|
| While the stars are going out
|
| And the stripes are getting bent
|
| The stars are going out
|
| And the stripes are getting bent |