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The Age of Everything

from Next World by Michael McGuire

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lyrics

All you have to do is touch it; you won’t feel a thing,
Mass-media goddess; the be-all tell-all weather-beauty,
The ruthless means of the calculated ends of structured emptiness,
Some brain-dead bureaucrat following his dead-end-duty,
But the only light that’s on is the applause-light,
It's a rerun tragedy but the laugh-track is hilarious,
It came broken by mail but anyway the new model is faster,
Turn it into nothing with a nice ass; make it Viagra-vicarious.

And underneath it all I still feel like a blank that’s not been filled in,
I just want to move to a new neighborhood into a house nobody’s been killed in.
And just Facebook all my pretty little problems for the world to comment and archive,
I will end as the junk-flies of gut felt gossip on the next world hard drive.

The byte made word; scripted agencies of our cyber-selves,
She is an encrypted device of which we can’t break the code,
Everywhere the anything at once; memories put tomorrow's now,
We will bail out the banks of our meaning to co-sponsor the ode,
A fairytale-princess-scapegoat's-blog; Fox news or pixellated-porn,
The attention span of eternity couldn’t follow this Warhol-of-fame,
It’s nothing you can’t live without but you need it to know it,
So much less than lifeless; not much more than a game.

Stranded in the age of everything,
Branded by the corporate-take-over-sting,
Chronic cancers and streaming revivals,
Sonic-censor game-show-survivals,
New-age-old-school-identity-thief,
Blue-ray spec and unbelievable-belief,
Ad hoc universal formats of scorched earth,
Ad rock implications of it girl's virgin birth.

Seeded whispers of the automated angels of commerce,
Babbling’s of god like gizmos that hold the future ransom,
And the beautiful price paid to the tyranny of the dollar,
A mean and bloody king but he’s photoshoped and handsome,
What's doing won’t be done until now happens fifteen minutes ago,
But the sound-bite of the hot-blonde will have us buying the whole-half-truth,
This touches us more deeply than when we touch ourselves,
A whole world spent in the pursuit of misspent youth.

Raptured in the age of everything,
Captured by the primetime offering,
Amused to the point of confusion,
Abused by the be-real illusion,
Tagged by the ad-bots public invasion,
Nagged by the multinational abrasion,
A great time to live and have it all,
A fate worse than taxes if we juke the fall.


Nov. 11

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from Next World, released May 14, 2013

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Michael McGuire Nashville, Tennessee

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