| All of the punks are domesticated
|
| All of the freaks have gone to bed
|
| All of the pioneers are saved for
|
| Information tech
|
| Or wrinkled and dead
|
| They’re dead
|
| Now every room is sterilized
|
| All risk is paralyzed
|
| Meanwhile, the pop tarts climb the pop charts
|
| The blood clots block your heart parts
|
| And no one really has anything to say
|
| All of the rockstars are behind the bar
|
| Serving computers with acoustic guitars
|
| It’s a travesty
|
| Rock and roll matinee
|
| Songs about sunny days
|
| Or love in a pretty way
|
| All of our expression is uniform
|
| All of our food is mostly chloroform
|
| It’s not even a secret
|
| It’s easily accessible
|
| Just like anything on the planet
|
| And no one really minds
|
| It’s just a sign of the times
|
| To numb your dime a dozen mind
|
| In a world that gave everyone a voice
|
| We have no other choice
|
| We’re all so important
|
| Tell me about yourself
|
| Tell me about yourself
|
| Tell me about yourself
|
| I will be forgotten in two generations
|
| What will have been my big mark?
|
| A couple little tears dangling in the dark
|
| An impressive collection of digital remarks
|
| An apple falls at the park
|
| Where your body lay
|
| Deep within the clay
|
| It’s just another day
|
| Where all of the punks are domesticated, all the freaks have gone to bed |