The Medium

P-O-P and R-O-C-K, this is how it goes

It's these four chords that everybody knows

Catchy platitudes for the restless mind

Peppy plastic melodies we hear all the time

It's a song about Billy, yeah, he's gone downtown

But to his surprise, Sally's not around

The story's pretty trite and it's been playing all day

But we listen anyway

The rejects came along in the name of punk rock

Borne from a nihilistic self-imposed schlock

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, blah-blah-blah, blah

The medium itself was the message on the block

Slender figures with the most radical quivers

A penchant for dissonance that make the normies shiver

Who would've thought that the socially reclusive

Could be exploited for industry usage?

When feeling low, you go out to a show

And you sing along, it's somewhere to belong

You find your place to heal at your own pace

In grimace or in grace, play it as it lays

When feeling dread, it gets you out your head

You feel a raging need to sense the weight of the beat

Wear the pain, anger on display

Someone smells a profit

'Cause everybody loves it

So when the feeling takes a hold I see

Nothing matters

Matter's made

I'm the medium