I want my t.v. to think for me,
help blot out the irony,
cut out all of the tyranny.
I want the internet to speak for me
Meet with myself to disagree
on how I came to be
so stuck up and sapped of glee
No one'll write me a symphony
When I die it's just being free.
Simple yet so complex
outta credit so I'm writing checks
Finding the reason why
I'm always left so high and dry
Convince me that everything will be ok
like my life is all made of clay
reshape it and fix the day
cuz nothing quite went my way
Jun 14, 2007
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