It's late and the TV is glowing You're watching without even knowing
Those people are having good feelings Those colors all look so appealing
Wishing the places were traded, after the picture is faded
You like to watch Beavis and Butt-Head It seems there's just never enough said You're staying inside, and you're basking in the light There's dust everywhere, irridescent in your hair
Wishing the places were traded, after the picture is faded And if the TV is busted, can anyone else be trusted?
Of all these memories, which one of them is yours? And is it them or me? Wonder you're not sure
You'd like to go out, but they say it's freaky out You've been everywhere, and you've never left your chair
Wishing the places were traded, after the picture is faded And if the TV were busted, can anyone else be trusted?