They collected the monorail and it was filed,
with the storybook that scared us all when I was a child.
But our feet are now protruding past the edge of our beds
and that storybook still haunts me like the waters ahead.
Caroline had to test the waters, washing up on video.
Video had electromagnets constituting foreign show.
What we saw was not the answer, at least in common style,
but a redhead midget yelling at an rabbit for a while.
We're Yosemite Sam and the mechanical man,
you'd have to see her to believe her with her head in the sand,
under mechanical Sam and the mechanical woman,
and I think it's time to go.
They broadcasted existence of the technology,
of those hoverboards in fair awards that we've yet to see.
The cathode ray of yesterday was far more than a fad,
assembled from the childhood that we never had.
Caroline had to check the ratings, written in binary code.
Binary had a one-and-zero, a recursed resonating node.
Music was the scientist, music was the key,
when pop culture featured pistols on national TV.
The medium's the message as they counted from three,
to the products of Adorno and culture industry.
Our TV sets are washed away, while I thought that we should borrow
from the experimental prototype city of tomorrow.
Caroline had to calm the public, caught it all on telephone.
Telephone linked to internet, the calming was globally known.
Call us when you're scared or worried, call when alone.
We'll hear your words before you say them through rotary phone.
We're Yosemite Sam and the mechanical man,
you'd have to see her to believe her with her head in the sand,
under mechanical Sam and the mechanical human
and now I think it's time to go.
credits
from Monocot Down,
released July 3, 2013
Kirk Pearson- all that stuff