Radio Rejects (RoTR)

Originally titled "Radio Ga-Ga (Retards on the Radio)." dated 3-13-08

These songs, they sing
To a generation
Lost and used, dazed and confused
This generation
Thrown out with the refuse.
We’re an age of destruction
A land of demolition
The American dream
As empty as it seems.

Hide in your apartments
Post a new blog, lets
Stay inside and hide
No reason to go outside
It’s just fine
We’re avoiding sunshine
In this modern age
Of stupidity and minimum wage

Hop in your car
Let’s go real far
And listen to the s**t schtick
That passes for modern music
Three power chords, plus chorus
One verse, this should abhor us
But still we tune in
Have ourselves a listen

I’ve never heard this song
Yet I can sing right along
It’s so formulaic
This god awful music
Tunes with no soul
Musicians who can’t put on a show
Becoming breadwinners
Getting head for dinner
And releasing shite tracks.
Until, by chance,
A song on the album
Lands platinum

It makes me sick.

I wouldn’t be so arrogant
If the artists, these days, had a little talent
But, by and large,
It’s the bigwigs in charge
Completely tonedeaf
Who do the deciding ’til there’s no music left
And the musicians follow suit
Now they’re sell-outs, to boot
Playing their swill
Until the industry has its fill
Then disregards the tunes
Just like yesterday’s news.
And the cycle continues.