There are strings [bad word] from a hand
They extend to every point across this land
And the ants keep moving fast
They just blink and nod while miracles slip past

There's a face, unearthly clean
That stares up at me from every magazine [bad word] screens and concrete lines
I think I might let my subscription slide

There's this song stuck in my brain
With the unrelenting pulse of the inane
And the words go tra-la-la
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-da-da

There's a tick and there's a tock
They pursue like Hare Krishnas while I walk
Storefront signs broadcast the time
I think I might let my subscription slide

There are words hung in the sky
That the crazy children hum while they walk by
Human souls on sale for dimes
In a game of chutes and [bad word] by mimes

There's this voice, it won't shut up
Says I should spill my juice and overflow the cup
You've [bad word] and I've got mine
I think I might let my subscription slide

There [bad word] and we all subscribe
I think I'm gonna let my subscription slide