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Oh, you did it all by yourselfYou must be a geniusTherefore, I needn't botherTo learn this new convenienceSing, sing a songnot too weird, not too longdon't be afraid to use machinesFor the only purpose of their makingA million sounds, a billion sounds Are out there waiting for the takingConceived or retrievedI hope, I hope, I hopeThey don't smoke all the dopeI'll pay the piperWhen times are riperBut that smartass cop with the bad haircutShould have been just a little bit nicerSing, sing a songPass a disk, pass the bongResiding in the cutout binWith all my little rivet-head friends nowIf riding charts is what you intendTry not to laugh when you get the fucking bendsSongtexteDon't believe all the virtual reality hypeWhat America wants is a digital wipeThey can't put a man on the moon anymoreTook a year to design a fucking shuttle doorThat's right. 'Space 1999' reruns, anyone?That's right. You suck! Aus Songtexte Mania