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• Artiste: Faded Paper Figures
• Titre: The Persuaded
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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?