TV Head

TV Head
Brain Dead
You swapped your ethics
With the talking screens
Starved of knowledge
Living off of rations
Breathing the oxygen
Of a capitalist regime

We the sheep
With kerosine soaking
Into out our fur
And when the man in the box
Regurgitates into air waves
We can catch fire
Licking it up
With the tips of out tongues
Touching the static screen like flint
Where words would walk the plank
Like true martyrs for a freedom speech

Cardboard cutouts of the round table
Serving gossip in the dishonest hours
Hypnotic propaganda
So sly
Like needles in the skin of a sleeping child
Grown into your ideals
And they'll stifle your theories
Telling you they're nothing
Or even worse
Simply chaining them to you
Chaining you to them

These are the men and women
Who took on the responsibility
Of informing the people
And all they've done
Is severe the heads of the chickens
Watched them run into one another
I'm convinced
It's what they wanted