The machines are breathing They turn my fashion to songs The TV is singing to me A no nature song The poetry of stained glass windows is gone The candy wrappers have won The precision of a metaphysical bomb Composed by machine It's my time, I'm on time, I make time Time is the next thing I will sing to control I love my time, time, time The shelves of my memory remind me Of a drug store aisle The artificial colors give my eyes a reason to see What is not to love about my shopping list? All the beautiful symbols The impossibilities of time and space The Eiffel Tower's pure air I'm just a billboard You can compose me like an electric song