The DC3 - No App текст песни

Uh huh huh huh huh huh huh
I'm waiting for the man
Uh huh huh huh huh huh
Twenty six hundred dollars in my hand
Gotta have the latest app
That tells me who I am
Uh huh huh huh
I'm waitin for the man

The man leant back in his place
His knowledge captured, remanufactured wi-fi workspace
His face, a look of baroque insouciance
Belied the voice lugubrious in his head
Insidious, invidious, a chorus of idiots
It said
It's been three seconds since your last idea, man
Your career man, it's dead
Already the color was draining from his Dorian Grey psyche
Not good when you're Jesus Zeitgeist almighty
Around him on the floor discarded toys, failed ploys from the poor
Lesser versions of himself
Ideas men left on the shelf
Gizmos, gimmicks, a hundred or more
Gimcrack gewgaws jackdawed from some sweatshop kid
At the fat end of the pyramid, watching fame pass them by
The man thought, there but for the grace of drugs go I

I pay the price and I'm alive
?
I'm wide eyed and wi-fi
Synergized, paralyzed
I no longer care what's real
I no longer have to feel
There's no anybody else
There's no other, there's no self

Flecking the three thousand dollar razor lapel of his Ezra London suit
Je m'appelle success, it screamed
A finer sheen, a dusting of powder, Bolivian, faster, louder
Subsistence, when you're rich enough for hand to mouth existence
It set the scene, his brain widescreen
His pupils configured, his pulse hair trigger
And at last it appears, that rush of ideas in twos and threes
Ringtone epiphanies
Shards, slivers, snippets, scintillas, souciants, a thousand songs
Only not songs, but subriffs, sequences, two second shreds
Secret sounds on shuffle in his head
He conjured the ultimate app that everyone wanted but nobody needed
The app that constantly self-superceded
His vision, his mission, the frisson of transmission
The app that would double, triple his fame
The app that would bring everlasting acclaim
Change forever the rules of the game
The ultimate app, it just needed a name

And I leave what I've become
And I feel I am the one
And I think I've touched the sun
And I feel like Jesus' son
?
And I only want to ?
?
?

He needed a name for his greatest creation
One word for the orgy of information
One word for the goldfish generation
With a million apps but no application
One word to describe how far we've come
What technology-driven modern living's become
And at last the word came from above
And the word was good
And the word was
iVuvuzela.

Uh huh huh huh huh huh huh
I'm waiting for the man
Uh huh huh huh huh huh
Twenty six hundred dollars in my hand
Gotta have the latest app
That tells me who I am
Uh huh huh huh
I'm waitin for the man.