transfixated on the big blue screen,
it's your window to the outside,
a melancholy dream,
a medium upon which you build reality,
this episodic currency,
that everybody needs
somebody's delivery lulls you to sleep,
the man behind the weather map,
the editor in chief,
they control two worlds,
power and disease,
and you cannot suppress your curiosity
but see it's only entertainment,
superficial urgency,
posterboard mentality,
only entertainment,
tightly constrained,
the buzz that remains,
is the story of how we run our lives
many are the people poor and suffering,
from the lack of coverage,
from the transmission beam,
and if it ever gets here,
you'll be offended too,
'cause you cannot distinguish,
chicanery from truth,
see it's only entertainment,
a superficial episode,
as life continues to unfold,
only entertainment,
controlled an copied,
they've planted the seed,
that sprouts into your picture of the world,
can't someone protect me (turn away, turn away),
from this electron beam,
hey you, Mr.FCC,
have you no advice for me?
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