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 | Inertia |
| 8 | No Peripheral |