He won't know Adorno

He's an adult with an adcult

You can buy your way into his head



He was never better

Wearing sneakers and a sweater

Made by 12-year-olds sweating in Shenzhen



He says,

Let's drive, drive, drive

Till we burn, burn, burn,

We can choke on it later on tonight

And we'll fumble with the planet

Dry the river and then damn it

Just persuade me that everything's all right.



This was his reality

He says the stupid love equality

And he's never seen a car he didn't like



On code like a reptilian

Pays Rapaille another billion

From your cortex to the page is just a hike.



So

Let's drive, drive, drive

Till we burn, burn, burn,

We can choke on it later tonight

And we'll fumble with the planet

Dry the river, then we'll damn it

Just persuade me that everything's all right.



Because things…we've got to have our things.



We're not persuaded by the Omnicom

We're not persuaded we're the only ones

We're not persuaded by hegemony

We're not persuaded we were ever free



Is that your conscience, or are you alone?

Is that Noam Chomsky on the telephone?