Wide Of The Mark
Coma Birth
He was born in a broadcast signal
Held in the womb of a satellite
Once was cradled by radiation
He bathed in cancer with anticipation
Alpha and beta nursed him through the night
Oh dont you know? I dont make the rules...
Antennas are what make us breathe in comas
with life below us.
Lets tear those fuckers down.
In the shade of a blue-hue telly
he lets the fields change like channels
Just plug us into the rusty soil
In a transfusion of blood and oil
Now turn us on like electric candles
From Letras Mania