Transfixated on the big blue screen
It's your window to the outside, a melancholy dream
A medium upon which you build reality
This episodic currency that everybody needs

Somebody's delivery lulls you to sleep
The man behind the weather map, the editor in chief
They control two worlds, power and disease
And you cannot suppress your curiosity

But see it's only entertainment
Superficial urgency, posterboard mentality
Only entertainment, tightly constrained, the buzz that remains
Is the story of how we run our lives

Many are the people poor and suffering
From the lack of coverage from the transmission beam
And if it ever gets here, you'll be offended too
'Cause you cannot distinguish chicanery from truth

See it's only entertainment
A superficial episode as life continues to unfold
Only entertainment, controlled and copied, they've planted the seed
That sprouts into your picture of the world

Can't someone protect me?
From this electron beam
Hey you, Mr. FCC
Have you no advice for me?

Turn away, turn away
Turn away, turn away