Extra Medium

Please don't turn on the TV

Or open the paper

'cause the chances of tragedy

are now part of the weather

I've got myself a notion

To keep me safe for a while

I think I'm gonna go hide myself

Behind hot water and tile

Every decade they say it's getting worse

I don't know if it's true or a cynical curse

But it's bearing down on me constantly

And pretty soon now, I think it's gonna burst

I'm not coming out of the shower

It's such a comfortable crutch

It's a warm loving womb, and intoxicating tomb

And I don't miss the outside world that much

Now all my harshest critics

Are screaming for murder

But I'm doing what we've done all along

I'm just taking it one step further

I've always been a good American

I drank a lot of soda and I didn't question

In whose deft hand the grenade was in

And now I feel someone is gonna pull the pin