Grind, to powders fine, submissive kinds of tiny minds
Junkies need the daily read
The lies and the trash, exchanged for cash
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind
Blue, printed views, are they news, or half truths?
The broad, sheets are stored, in narrow minds and memorised
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind
Now you're blind... blind... blind... blind... blind... blind
Tabloids, to fill the void
Disaster and scandal, all you can handle
The sales pitch of starving kids and fleshy pies for flaccid dicks
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind
The pestle and the mortar slowly grind, the last dregs of any sane thought from your mind