Brain death, blind desk, school damage, straight A's. . Sixteen, on the honor roll, I wish that I was dead. Hate my Parents, I got zits and bruises round my head.
We ain't going to the party. We ain't going to the game. We ain't going to the disco. Ain't gonna cruise down main. . We're stealing people's mail. Stealing people's mail, stealing people's mail.
Finally got to Washington in the middle of the night. I couldn't wait. I headed straight for the Capitol Mall. . My heart began to pound. Yahoo! It really exists.
We're sorry. But you're no longer needed. Or wanted or even cared about here. Machines can do a better job than you. And this is what you get for asking questions.
If only people could shrink. Our world wouldn't be so overcrowded. Bring ourselves down to size. There'd be so much more food to go 'round. . Why don't we build a machine.
"Rick Wakeman, eat your heart out. Here we go!". . I like short songs. I like short songs. I like short songs. . I like short songs. I like short songs.
There's a prefab building and a funny smell. Around the hill outside of town. Every now and then we wonder. But we shrug our shoulders. And get back to work....