Psychotic Waltz Little People
I feel again I'm coming home To find the place I feel alone My television friends have gone Now I can take my time to talk about them They're nice to me, they smile to me They are what they'd like me to be I let them keep me company And I don't even care what they're selling They're only selling Look into these little boxes Bluer weather, greener grasses Everyone has lost of money Everyone's in style Little people, little houses Happy living little lives When they wake up with perfect makeup It makes me sick Don't need a life of my own, you know I'm so satisfied Deep in the screen they have made me believe I'm so pacified They keep me asleep with each day they repeat This life they pretend to me I took my television, unplugged it from the wall Tiny people crawling as I broke it on the floor I put them in my pockets, took them where they can't be found then held them in my hands Then I made them do really bad things Now I'm afraid to be at home Because I fear I'm not alone My television friends of what they might be selling What are they selling
