New New Song Lyrics

I am the sty

In your day of firsts

Black plastic container

Floats us into the dead of space

Let's build a city

See how close we can get without touching each other

Pump me full of seminal fluid

Throw my head against a sky scraper

This machine is obsolete, clear, expensive

I wash my hands in the endless clear skies

And our children

The heart bursts at the thought

Of having reached such heights without starting World War 3

I want to be like you

Trading neurotic glances

At each other, planning

The unborn pregnant zeppelins of future

I've got "It" I swear

My body is the key to this city

I am every bit of

Nothing much

Before laying the groundwork

Would it have been useful

To understand the subtle changes

In this apathetic World War 3

Where lawns are mown into eternity

On changing weather patterns we travel

Into the dark of a new century

Candles lodged on the side of the machines

Flicker toward the end of the world

What's real?

Want here

I can't see anything