Constantly Constantly Radio's On

There’s a conspiracy,
On board Aquarian.
The water’s high.
Heavy deuterium.
A crescent power grid shines like it never.
And you spit as you’re hitting the harbor at night.
Ride the light rail to Camden and shut down the MARC line.
Red line to Tenleytown.
Climb up antenna.
You take a look at the hills of the Maryland timescape,
Take out your target scope and applications.
And you’re constantly constantly radio’s on.
And you’re headphones are deadphones.
They’re falling apart.
You’re a transmitterhead with a Wisconsin heart.
All the beautiful people get shot in the heartland.