1. |
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Autotune my life, beat detect my world
Quantization, pitch correction for me and my girl
Put me on a segway pointed at the promised land
Celebrities have handlers, well I need that helping hand
Right now!
You gotta tune me up
You gotta turn me down
You gotta tune me up
You gotta t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tune my life
Give me a teleprompter, prop me up and give me cues
Give me a hot producer with beats that never lose
My manager will call you and convince you I'll enthrall you
Negotiate, manipulate (and later he'll fellate)
Oh yeah!
You gotta tune me up
You gotta turn me down
You gotta pull me in
You gotta put me out
You gotta lead me on
You gotta shut me off
You gotta tune me up
You gotta t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tune my life
Restructure my process, rebuild all my product
Resequence my thought streams which dictate my conduct
Inject me with a will at the base of my spine
I'll stand up straight, captain my fate, that would be mighty fine
Autotune me!
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2. |
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The car walks for me
The TV reads to me
Microwave cooks for me
The network feeds to me
Let people think for me
I like it free and easy
I lay on the shoulders of giants
I've got it down to a science
Now all I need
The final measure
Have the fun for me
Relieve the burden of pleasure
Radio, sing to me
|
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3. |
Sasha V - Forever Old
02:52
|
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|
I was young, it was not fun
Maybe it could have been
But I was too dumb
Soon I'll be old, can't wait to try it
Could be fun, could be a riot
Saturn is such a sad sad song
But maybe Gustav got it wrong
Dylan, Sparks, Alphaville
Questing like Ponce de Leon
They've got to know when to fold
Set their sights a little lower
Find the other fountain
Quaff an ample amount and
Savor the flavor
Ah, to be forever old
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4. |
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They say you're only free in dreams and dreaming is free
These episodic visitations from outside reality
But what if my dreams are stupid and mundane
I'm punished for deeming dreams another dead-end game
I've stopped paying attention to my dreams
I no longer found them useful or interesting
They are almost worthless to try to describe
But all the more reason they should be privately prized
This one solipsism is even over my line
This one solipsism i've decided to deny
Because the fruits gleaned with lucid control
Are so internal as to seem merely autoerotic
There was this one dream a long time ago
A car with no driver alone on the road
It was perfectly still, asphalt flew under wheels
I was a disembodied spectator in awe
I guess you had to be there
You'd have to be in my dream
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5. |
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In the blue-green light
Where you unfold your quietude
Cheap bulbs render homeworld
Den of secrecy, fantasy
One part drifts out window
Under mauve taupe sky
One part sinks into teal
And soaks in wordless shared breaths
Some grave intrigue, unspecified
Some need for urgency
Interpenetrate and spiralize
Under blue-green light
And mauve taupe sky
Interpenetrate and spiralize
|
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6. |
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7. |
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|
From stifling security, I can see
The abyss of freedom
What would I do with me, lost at sea
In the abyss of freedom
Less direction, less reck, less feck
From a heaven full of headache to bottomless heck
Your head is out the window when you crane your neck
Toward the abyss of freedom
Fantasies of misery, mundane safari
Of my daydreamin’
Dispatches direct or implied, confide, deride
The abyss of freedom
Takes a braver, more determined soul than I
One with a stronger sense of purpose and goals than I
To navigate that ocean and not languish, awry,
In the abyss of freedom
|
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8. |
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9. |
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|
Making dollars out of human skin
Printing faces on the fibers and the filament
My lifestyle resplendent, and it's all tax-deductible
Thank you, Mr. President
Making dollars out of human skin
Thank god for my sense of entitlement
I feel sorry for you losers, I was born to win
A fortune made from pressed and dyed human skin
Your entrails are exposed, so strike a pose
While I buy designer clothes and turn up my nose
I'm not opposed to the idea of you being alive
I just like extra digits on my account balance, you understand
I know you'd do the same if you thought of it first
But aw shucks, looks like I did, and hey, it could be worse
At least I got something out of the deal, right?
Making dollars out of human skin
But oh, on what to spend?
My lifestyle resplendent, and it's all tax-deductible
Thank you, Mr. President
Making dollars out of human skin
Be you dejected liberal or remorseless republican, I don't care
I feel sorry for you losers, I was born to win
A fortune made from pressed and dyed human skin
|
||||
George Korein and the Spleen recommends:
Curdle Speaks EP (feat. George Korein)
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