Signals get mixed up
we're broadcasting bullshit
I'll shout 'til my mouth's dry
you'll spit like a dragon
the summers all static, now--
I'll wait for the season
to switch over channels
for less interference.
On mute.
Bracing our brains
for primetime quakes
Kill off a day
trapped in escapes
The fate of the union,
the sake of my habits,
Estate of illusions
auctioned off from your pulpit
I'll shovel the static 'til
the street's within reaching.
Now follow new channels
with buzzing devotion
switched off.
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