Vārdi: Input. A Radio With Guts.

I turn the dial, this is a radio with guts
Surrounded by empty bottles and cigarette butts
The only channel that can gain a clear reception
Focuses on issues closely linked to my depression

There are reasonable markets for this way of life
Anchoring today and making sure that what we say is right
The corporation's at a place to top the pinnacle
Rain the very essence of the messages
They're cynical

The reciprocal respect that we have shown to them
Is underestimated by the rages and executives
So we fight with our words as our weapons
Stating our beliefs inside the minutes and of seconds
This is my product the shrink wrap confession

Experimenting with the God's our personal expression
Destined to become another falling icon
Stuck in rehabilitation, trying to make the right song

Doesn't meet the credentials and expectations
I didn't think so, farewell to the degradation
The signal used to be clear and informative
Now it wears designer cloths to cover up the porcelain

Let me see you dance and smile for the audience
Isn't this what you've been asking for from the start of this
If it's not, then why on earth are you still around
Living as a poster child, trend setting mindless crowds

Im a vulnerable witness
Living everyday attempting to escape this mistress
As she follows me, she wants me to respond
To her accusations that I've been doing this all wrong

But I just keep walking with direction
Never giving her a chance to see me unprotected
Take a picture 'cause you're bound to forget this
Fame, now see you later, mark me off your check list

Radio lost its individuality
Now it's just a skeleton in need of a battery
No more flattery, just insults and theme songs
Artists only want to be the feature of a ring tone
This here radio is different from the ones you know
The only obligation that'll hold is to express its soul
Raise the volume and digest the music
This radio is inspiring the movement

I remember the radio was my best friend
Blues from the AM came alive through the FM
All the problems of the normalized environment
Disappeared as soon as I, just as the entire thing

There were days that I appeared to be unsatisfied
Listening for that one song to bring me back to life
But as the years kept moving, I was still there
Hoping for the moment that an artist showed they still cared

I don't know exactly how it turned itself to this
Seemingly constructed for a teenage driven populace
Every aspect was discussed with the crement (?)
To cut off the lives and dreams of those underneath the cement

So here we are with our stereo equipment
Pushing better frequencies that all of us can live with
The antenna points directly at the north star
Looking to establish itself inside of your car

Radio lost its individuality
Now it's just a skeleton in need of a battery
No more flattery, just insults and theme songs
Artists only want to be the feature of a ring tone
This here radio is different from the ones you know
The only obligation that'll hold is to express its soul
Raise the volume and digest the music
This radio is inspiring the movement