Bobby Fleet Transmission 2
Channel 3 circa 1996. Bobby Fleet
I get tired of T.V.
It attacks, slaps, and decreases my speed
of inner motion.
It’s the idle of dysfunction
Say again on Channel Three. What it said to me on Channel Three was that once the kid shot the gun, he knew that he was saved. By the 1-900-dail-a-sin
The 1-900-dail-again for sitting in that chair being not quit there. Forgetting every other where except for Channel Three. What it said to me on Channel Three was that I could be the One. The President, or a Solarflexed Hunk, or that sexy woman that I’d really love to fuck. She’s always there with a beer or a tampon, I only wish I could get my hands on Channel Three. Please stay tuned but don’t be free.
Now all of us are tuned in, the government and we,
The family dog and me, the baby and the slaves all learn to live by T.V. waves. While I’m so tired you see; my eyes hurt and soon will bleed cause all the while I sit and stare at all the channels floating in the air. It’s all there to please. Yes, everything’s on Channel Three. A-clicka, a-clicka, a-clicka.