"Before you advertise
All the fame is implied
With no fortune unseen
Sell the rights
To your blight
Time-machine

While I'm dulled by excess
And a cynic at best
My art imitates crime
Paid for by
The allies
So invest

Now I'm finding truth is a ruin
Nauseous end that nobody is pursuing
Staring into glassy eyes
Mesmerized
There's a vintage thirst returning
But I'm sheltered by my channel-surfing
Every famine virtual
Retrovertigo"
Mr. Bungle