Since the 90s.

I talk to myself
Naked I’m dancing in the rain
Clothing on in the shower
Your words washing down my drain

And all the singers on the radio
Are the ones who’ve gone insane
And the singers. on your game

I walk alone
into the waters deep
My mellow tones they’ll never creep
Into yours because

All the singers on the radio
Have hung themselves again
And the poets on your

All the singers on the radio
The radio. The radio.

All the poets where do they go?

I shut myself I fuck myself

I feel the same the pain

I strut my felt I pluck my help

Why reel along this lame?

And all the singers on the radio
Are the ones who’ve gone insane
And the singers. on your fame

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