Unplug - 07-14-11

So turn off the LEDs
Smash in the computer screen
Pull these USBs from my veins
Tune out the suped up cars
Lock up all the movie stars
Cut the power line to my brain

Well, Ke$ha, you’ve got a pretty voice
So I wonder if you have any choice
Or if it’s the producers who let the computer sing
Beyoncé, you were the queen of pop
But three years without an album and it all stops?
Even the best of our singers turn out to be just a fling

All the punk rock’s
Fallen to cold pop
Under the terminal’s conquest
Between blind neutrality
And budding individuality?
End’s up being no contest

So turn off the LEDs
Smash in the computer screen
Pull these USBs from my veins
Tune out the suped up cars
Lock up all the movie stars
Cut the power line to my brain

Well I’d like to talk
To whoever’s at the top
Of the record companies deciding
Where the sellouts go
When appeal runs low
Thinking they’ll turn thunder back into lightning

I think there’s a ditch somewhere
Filled with forgotten artists and despair
That’s where Rebecca Black will stay
When she’s forgotten on Saturday
That’s where every modern singer will go
When their appeal finally runs low
That’s where current culture dies
With our music lost in an blinking of an eye
That’s what we’re all headed to
Fashion and cinema, art and science too
The screen has slowed our cognitive function
The video games make our ADD rambunctious

Yet the shooting stars
Are going far
On a beautiful summer evening
But good luck
Seeing them through the ceiling

So turn off the LEDs
Smash in the computer screen
Pull these USBs from my veins
Tune out the suped up cars
Lock up all the movie stars
Cut the power line to my brain