There's a message coming to me on my TV screen,
|
Every time I try to turn it off.
|
It tells me I'm inferior and incomplete,
|
And I'm a fool for being satisfied with what I've got.
|
|
White noise, white noise.
|
Carrying the poison to the girls and boys.
|
|
There's a message coming to me when my cellphone rings,
|
To remind me that I'm never alone.
|
They say the radiation will kill me eventually,
|
Along with every machine that I own.
|
|
White noise, white noise.
|
Carrying the poison to the girls and the boys.
|
|
There are natives living in the jungle,
|
Running wild and naked through the trees.
|
There are satellites above tracking every move,
|
To calculate how to sell them what they'll never need.
|
|
White noise, white noise.
|
Carrying the poison to the girls and the boys
|
|
-----------------
|
White Noise
|
| Rival Sons |