Everyone, look into the television now,
Hell has risen outta the elements in the ground
Fellowship of the sound,
Always looking ahead with a final glance back before we put it to bed
It's as good as it gets
Wouldn't it get any better if you were my editor?
Oh you think you're so very clever?
Well you're not.
Robots roam the perimeter
Minister on the soapbox, so very sinister,
Isn't it possible to feel better than alive?
There's only one way to find out, you better hide
Music has never been described as this before,
Kiss your forever a goodbye, better be advised,
Weather we decide to level everything or not,
Everybody dies
Bombs away!
Bombs away!
Bombs away!
Yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And we can dance all night in the fiery glow,
When they burn down this whole city
So yes, I'm sure,
That this is going to mean war,
When you're locked in the cellar with your loved ones fella,
But someone's at the door
So yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And you can spend your Friday nights alone,
When they burn down this whole city
Everyone, look into the television now,
We need medicine, we need medicine,
Put it on the front page and bold the lettering
The media's seen enough Leno and Dave Letterman
It's plans for the poor being lost and editing
Toss the prejudice out of this seventh story,
Before we see hell on Earth,
The presence of Heaven's glory,
They don't give a fuck about us dying,
It's a science of making money by taking it from somebody as broke as I am
Open up an eye and just look at all the disease,
Crooked politicians are putting on a routine
They're talking about taxes when the fact is,
When half the fucking country is still in the short,
Cause if their tax bracket
Now we live in the old shell of a hospital,
Cause you made health care impossible
People are dying in a war?
Well back home more people are dying cause they're poor!
Yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And we can dance all night in the fiery glow,
When they burn down this whole city
So yes, I'm sure,
That this is going to mean war,
When you're locked in the cellar with your loved ones fella,
But someone's at the door
So yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And you can spend your Friday nights alone,
When they burn down this whole city
Yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And we can dance all night in the firey glow,
When they burn down this whole city
So yes, I'm sure,
That this is going to mean war,
When you're locked in the cellar with your loved ones fella,
But someone's at the door
So yes, I'm pretty,
Sure that this won't be pretty
And you can spend your Friday nights alone,
When they burn down this whole city
Everyone, look into the television now...