Please don t turn on the TV
Or open the paper
cause the chances of tragedy
are now part of the weather

I ve got myself a notion
To keep me safe for a while
I think I m gonna go hide myself
Behind hot water and tile

Every decade they say it s getting worse
I don t know if it s true or a cynical curse
But it s bearing down on me constantly
And pretty soon now, I think it s gonna burst

I m not coming out of the shower
It s such a comfortable crutch
It s a warm loving womb, and intoxicating tomb
And I don t miss the outside world that much

Now all my harshest critics
Are screaming for murder
But I m doing what we ve done all along I m just taking it one step further

I ve always been a good American
I drank a lot of soda and I didn t question
In whose deft hand the grenade was in
And now I feel someone is gonna pull the pin