He was born in a broadcast signal
Held in the womb of a satellite
Once was cradled by radiation
He bathed in cancer with anticipation
Alpha and beta nursed him through the night
Oh dont you know? I dont make the rules...
Antennas are what make us breathe in comas
with life below us.
Lets tear those fuckers down.
In the shade of a blue-hue telly
he lets the fields change like channels
Just plug us into the rusty soil
In a transfusion of blood and oil
Now turn us on like electric candles
1 | (This Song Is Untitled) |
2 | Budd Dwyer |
3 | The Speakerfire |
4 | Roadside Romantic |
5 | An Inch Of Water |
6 | In The Streets, Tonight |
7 | No Peripheral |
8 | Inertia |