I can't believe it,
the way you look sometimes,
like a trampled flag on a city street,
oh yeah,
and I don't want it,
the things you're offering me,
symbolized bar code quick id,
oh yeah,
I'm a 21st century digital boy,
I don't know how to live (or read)
but I've got a lot of toys,
my daddy is lazy middle class intellectual,
my mammy's on valium,
she's so ineffectual,
ain't life a mystery?
I can't explain it,
the things they're saying to me,
going yayayayayayaya,
oh yeah,
I tried to tell you about no control,
but now I really don't know,
and then you told me how bad you had to suffer,
is that really all you have to offer?
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