Lyrics: “Argue with a broken record?”

Argue with a broken record?

A light comes on. A thousand roaches panic. They hide from harm. Reflex is automatic.

The news says “rage.” The people’s hearts race. Their god just spoke. Their brains turn to paste.

There’s no time to think once the storm is here. What storm? The chemical reaction of fear.
It’s in the mind of the masses; they’re all looking at each other, saying “everyone agrees, so it’s as real as my mother!”
Only a fool would argue with a broken record.
You read one book in school, so now you’re an expert. You passed a test in class, and soon you’re a professor.
You got interviewed twice, so your opinion is holy. Anyone who questions you must suffer from insanity.

It’s an insult to ask you “why are you so sure?” It’s a crime to ask you “why should I be so concerned?”
It’s heresy to ask you “can we check your data?” If one voice rules the people, some call it “the dictator.”
It’s in the mind of the masses; they’re all looking at each other, saying “everyone agrees, so it’s as real as my mother!”
Only a fool would argue with a broken record.
A doctor walks in. He says “there is no cure.” My Granny says, “Well, maybe we need a new doctor.”
The nurse says “wait, miss, our services are free.” Granny says, “that’s cause you ain’t done nothing to earn our money!”
Granny gets on the phone and asks everyone she knows… to find who understands how to make these symptoms come or go.
Those ignorant of science throw around the word incurable. If they were honest, they’d just say, “I don’t know enough to cure it.”
These arrogant cynics are terrified of science. So, they fight it desperately and bullies keep others silent.
Well, we get it. They simply want to censor competition. We’ll let them have their scrambling roaches. We don’t need that business.
A light comes on. A thousand roaches panic. They hide from harm. Reflex is automatic.
The news says “relax.” The people go to sleep. Their god just spoke. Their brains are weak.
There’ll be no time to think once the next storm is here. What storm? The chemical reaction of fear.
It’s in the mind of the masses; they all will look at each other, saying “everyone agrees, so it’s as real as my mother!”
Only a fool would argue with a broken record.

Then Granny smacked me on the cheek and said “child, you better think!”
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