And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - A cla**ic art showcase lyrics

White glow of the TV set Lights dancing on the screen Voice-overs rise like minarets Then fall diatonically Should I answer a friend's distress call Or should I go to sleep? Would I, like the voices rise and fall What's it to me? All those hours of wasted time Have never crossed my mind Here I am comfortable In arm's reach of the black remote Here I am comfortable Surrounded by strings and bows Let everyone else go Nights on Kirkwood so serene Far from the sirens and the screams I could write or I could read Go next door and smoke some weed As long as I don't have to think About who's running this mess Or what sh** they're writing in the Stone or NME Go down and make last call Or sit here and do nothing at all What's it to me? All those hours of wasted time Have never crossed my mind Here I am comfortable In arm's reach of the black remote Here I am comfortable All those clowns, what can they know? Let everyone else go