TV

Voices from a TV screen Breathing down Your neck A man without a face Don't be surprised My friend He knows how To talk He knows how To collect The voices he needs So bad Hear him praising The lord Whom he's always Renounced Fatherly he grins To grain The masses' good-will We have seen It all before Hailed be his naive Attempt Many trust his lies But words are cold Comfort When election day Is past See the glint in his Eyes dreams of dollars And dimes