Please don't turn on the TV Or open the paper 'cause the chances of tragedy are now part of the weather
I've got myself a notion To keep me safe for a while I think I'm gonna go hide myself Behind hot water and tile
Every decade they say it's getting worse I don't know if it's true or a cynical curse But it's bearing down on me constantly And pretty soon now, I think it's gonna burst
I'm not coming out of the shower It's such a comfortable crutch It's a warm loving womb, and intoxicating tomb And I don't miss the outside world that much
Now all my harshest critics Are screaming for murder But I'm doing what we've done all along I'm just taking it one step further
I've always been a good American I drank a lot of soda and I didn't question In whose deft hand the grenade was in And now I feel someone is gonna pull the pin