Schizotypic

I just wrote this in five minutes.
The Killers don't sound the same.
The Killers don't sound the same.
The Killers don't sound the same.

They all sound exactly the same.
And Suburbia reminds me of cookie-cutters.
Suburbia reminds me of cookie-cutters.
In the house that I grew-up in.
In the world that I grew-up in.
Where we all listen to the radio.
Where we all listen to the radio.
And the radio plays what's on our ipods.
And our ipods play the songs on the radio.
And the radio plays what's on our ipods.
But just the songs. Just the bubblegum songs.
Just the bubblegum songs that suck!
Were just like the 50's.

Were just like the 50's.
Stuck in our homes, with the woman on valium.
Stuck like suburbia, and everyone cares so much
Cares so much what other people think! Where is
The World? In this Picture, where is it?
Says Mr.Lennon, Woman are the n!ggers of the world.
But no one hears it now. And where's the philosophy?
The Drugs and the philosophy? Who took the philosophy
Out of the drugs? Was it Lil Wayne playing mary-had-a-lamb?
While a thousand fans screamed! Nobody listens to K'naan or
Saul Williams. We all listen to bubblegum. We even have
the pre-safety-pined-shirts, worth tons of dollars!
PRE-safety-pinned shirts! Ohhhh god! What happened
To dumbster diving for clothes? And unevenly dyed mohawks.
Everything is made of bubblegum now to the point where
Punk is officially an oxymoron. Punk is an oxymoron.

Cutlure and Music.
That Television controls.
That the radio controls.
Society wants control.

Why do we want control?
The media is blasting them
all the opiates in our faces
And upon a second listen, Iv'e found

The Killers don't sound the same.

Schizotypic

Wow. After reading this Iv'e decided that I should not have posted a piece of sh!t poem (not really a peom) that took so little time to write. It's just not who I am, bad decesion. Too tured. Going to sleep now.