Locked in the microwave
Nailed to the wall
And the frame picture says negotiate
The stain on the page
And a fresh supply is on it's way
And time is marching
And time is marching
And time is marching
And time is marching
And time is marching
Too many gods
So many heroes
The television man always says the same
With such disdain
He says to crave acclaim
And be the same
This dog was never meant for the outside
