Emergency Broadcast Syndrome

Position the phantom rigged in reflective tape Situated like a makeshift antenna, grinning like tinfoil We're losing reception, we can't pick up the game I should be discontinued I am a broadcasting embarrassment Hiss like the damned Decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips I am not receiving a sign that says i am still here anymore Do you hear me? Am i coming through at all? Is any of this making sense? You've got a ghost on your hands A televisual image only partially clear Scrambled phantom (I wish we'd all just stop talking at once) Spitting and cursing from the scrapheap we're on You should have lost your cool