| It’s crazy what we can do with satellite technology
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| We can now home order a lobotomy from another country
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| Last but not least we have the key to this old mystery
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| If extra-terrestrials are green, it’s… jealousy
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| Zappin' on satellite TV
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| All night long
|
| Nihility hypnotizing me
|
| Zappin' on satellite TV
|
| All night long
|
| The paradise of parasites, to me
|
| So many babylonauts livin' in a plastic age
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| Silicone women, built-in-baby-bottles, how odd…
|
| So many babylonauts livin' in a plastic age
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| Anatomic bombs, bottom models high heel shod
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| Channel five, you suddenly materialise
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| Naked in a liquid crystal bath
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| Deep inside a fantasy game
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| Far beyond vice, hmm… right at the edge of shame
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| An afflux of bilirubin exceeding everything
|
| The remote controller falls down right under my bed
|
| Donald Duck soft-landing on the moon appears on the screen
|
| The Disney channel logo now in a corner displayed
|
| Zappin' on satellite TV
|
| All night long
|
| Nihility hypnotizing me
|
| Zappin' on a satellite TV
|
| All night long
|
| The paradise of parasites, to me
|
| So many babylonauts livin' in a money age
|
| One man’s sorrow is another viewer’s joy, how odd…
|
| So many babylonauts livin' in a money age
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| Not any scruples if a dollar, God superseded by gold
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| Channel six his Holiness still alive and direct
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| Mumbles his latest brand new poppycock
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| Watch out for the judgement day
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| And in the meantime carry on starving, St. Big Money hears you pray
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| An afflux of adrenalin blows out all my inner gates
|
| The remote controller in my hand… disintegrates
|
| Switches to commercials
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| Now I’m a zero if I don’t have this ultimate love-letter typewriter
|
| Zappin' on satellite TV
|
| All night long
|
| Nihility hypnotizi |