The Age of the Paranoia

Here comes the paranoia
Here comes the pityful joy
We used to sing when we were happy
Like the pigs in the poke
My baby’s gonna take me out dancing
Here comes the paranoia
I feel it everywhere
Supersonic, catatonic patterns in between despair
Of everything pure in this world
And it’s hard not to be seen
When you’re rushing down the stream
So if you hear me don’t you panic
It’s all swell
They’re going to take us away from here
I know the end is near
Here comes the paranoia
Gunshots, mockery chants, pineapples, porcupines
And Pasadena pillows of kashmere skin
To make me feel all right
Don’t forget the tranquilizers
Ice cream, crackers and care
NyQuils, a bottle of tequila
And a head for my hair
And it’s hard not to be seen
When you’re rushing down the stream
So if you hear me don’t you panic
It’s all swell
They’re going to take us away from here
I know the end is near
Ready to take the blow!
Here comes the paranoia
Lonely days of joy and laughter
Added up in the equation
I can see the substance of it all
Beyond the paranoia, white is turning black
Everytime I stare into the TV
Karma supernova is looking back