Lyrics and music by Matthew Curran

(Written April 8, 2004)

Everyone hangs on the bad news

Only a small part in good news

Exploding up all the bad news

Is what reporters can really do

Says philosophers to fools

Some people like that type of fuse

There’s really nothing I can do

Something’s wrong with all of you

Letting everyone down

I’m really frowning like a dreary clown

What does make you feel all that better

Happier news or a death letter

Hold that type of tone in your voice

I hear it from everyone who watches

It’s always straining your brain

Complain and complain

There’s fiction on your television now

Chews you after, spits you out

What’s the point of watching this?

And all these numbers been down on my list

Why can’t you just change your story?

Scary-coated truth may get too gory

I’d really like to meet the boss

Who knows what all this damage may cost
Copyright © 2004, Matthew Curran Music. All Rights Reserved