Soviet Television

Ever since the beginning, there been no place for critics
Except for maybe in jail cells with failed academics
Schizophrenic lieutenants
Who will be finally ready to break bread when the war drum bangs
It’s all pain and panic and «bordel «In the center of the mecca that the kingdom claims
An unhitched carousel hell ride in the city
Ain’t no quiet type of living in the modern age
Get a paycheck
Get another every other Friday
Recirculate it and celebrate it
Take in what they say and imitate it
Cos the mind of the citizen manipulated
Eyes fixated
On a pixelated broadcast
Pass the remote control
A Soviet television, change the channel
That, or misinterpret it a little bit
Go along with it. Ya fall in love with it
Ya take the message in and send a letter bomb with it
Repetition is a well-known tactic
Get a pat on the back, and you’re a great success
Maybe you’ll be lucky with them DC think tanks
Sweepstakes contests and Wi-Fi access
Would you bottle up the dream. Distribute it to the masses
Prize winners, see the PDF attachments
Foreclosed homes, World of Warcraft
Red-lined zones, and a crack epidemic
Voter ID laws, HIV, food deserts
And a ghetto with no one to represent it but
A Kremlin helipad-imported poppy crop
A vacay in Kiev with a Gorbachov
Marxist starter kit sold at every corner shop
End up on some martyr shit and listen to the mortar pop pop
Sirens caterwauling over top of search lights on the prison wall crawling
Cops on dirt bikes are all out looking for comrades
So you better not call em
To them, you’re an animal
A light dims
There’s a cattle prod in the pen reminding you of your existence
Like claustrophobes in a crowded hallway
Empty people passing by
Try not to think about it
Maybe dream about it
The nightmare gets real when you read about it
It’s just a measure of what a stomach can take
Cos politics is a matter of taste
Take it in time with the dissidents
Unimpressed with the bulletproof vest strapped chests of the militants
And the best of Samaritans
See the drug cartels in the hearts of Americans
So, I take control of the narrative
An intern at ten dollars an hour could take care of it
Most folks wouldn’t know the quote from a Nickelodeon show
Cloaked in irrelevance
Go settle in
Clock in. Clock out
Go on and get a stomach full of medicine
Reminisce of sitting in a classroom memorizing foreign propaganda
It’s all gone in an instant
In a minute, you’ll be floating over top of PBS antennas
I’ll be singing in the halls of the Senate
I’ll show you when I smile for the cameras
My time dilated
In the end, we’ll be spinning on a pin
And waiting to be annihilated
I thank god at least that it’s a slow process set in the place
And it’s a slow process set in place
And it’s a slow process set in place
A very slow process set in place
A very slow process set in place
And we’ve been setting the pace
In this sedentary position we’re brought up in
To ponder the commercial breaks
Meanwhile, my reading list just keeps on building