My TV has a name written in bold letters
I try to remember,
They tell me it's important
All I remember is it's aged zing
Like ze ze ze, I'm thinking, pregnant bee.
I try making conversation,
like, s'cuse you, what you doing?
Credit be given to my TV.
It laughs and laughs, and laughs, and grins, and waves
Tomorrow, I will speak to it again
Now, I'm too vexed with it's cockiness..
Maybe tomorrow, I'll sing it a song of storms and flowers and myth
Maybe I'll write me a song of how we met
You were crouched in your little box and I was starved a little love
Oh, won't you sing me a song today. Tomorrow is never certain.
I'm going away tomorrow,
with my pills and more pills