I dream of Molly Hatchet Chopping up the Backstreet Boys Oh, yeah, it's been a free ride Making up the great whit enoise And I blow up satellite They're controlling all I like And we burn up in the atmosphere Making everything all right I listen to the static tearing up your radio I'm feeling catatonic drive-thru electronic Can't believe I thought you were a superhero Just a lot of talking tough with your ones and zeros