Album Name : The New Yorker, May 17th, 2010 (Malcolm Gladwell, David Owen, Julia Ioffe)
Release Date : 2010-03-23
Song Duration : 00:
Julia Technology
Almost forgotten – here at the bottom
no more lies and no goodbyes
Pushing the senses – leaving defenseless
clean me up – it's just technology
A feast on your fire – corroding desire here
and nothing happens at all
Swallow the world – and still don't be fed off
there's nothing happening at all
I've got technology under my chest – so would you try
to fix it
My favourite mistake is – I want to last – I wouldn't
say it's hopeless
A bag full of wires – the one's to admire
when you rot you will get rid of it
Wires implanted – the one's you demanded
your 21th century sick look fits you
The day when no one – gets stabbed in the back – is
the day that I'm gonna change
But until that day – I stay dressed in black – feel
at home – because you are strange
I've got technology under my chest – so would you try
to fix it
My favourite mistake is – I want to last – I wouldn't
say it's hopeless
Where did he go – the winner of the show left
the building – so kill him immediately
Where do you go – cause everybody knows what
has got you – so do we have a volunteer?
I don't know – what's happening in this show – is it
painful – and if it's so I don't go
Cause I can choose – my private little self abuse –
so can you hear me?
I've got technology under my chest – so would you try
to fix it
My favourite mistake is – I want to last – I wouldn't
say it's hopeless