We have to beat some robos, so try to keep up with the subtext.
I can't bite the hand that feeds me, and getting fed now is complex.
Look, I'd like to be a snack for you, some entertainment meat,
but the path there has a million avenues and one FUCKING BIG STREET.
So when you hear me wax poetic about the gaps, I know you know,
I'm a silent whistle blower blowing smoke at the pot hole.
Still with me? See if you can follow with my thesis:
Imagine a mailman who gets to pick the pieces,
and the order of the mail that he sets out to deliver,
this should already be enough to make you start to shiver,
but consider how bad it'd be if the ones you love the most
only think that you love them when they see it in the post.
Now imagine that the mailman has been busted before
messing with the mail to "play Cupid," maybe more.
Now let's give the mailman his own printer and the permission,
to print of extra copies of what he calls "good submissions".
In case he thinks you missed it, he'll just print you off another,
and you'll get just the best mail if you just trust each other.
A timeline without chronology is more of a greatest hits,
it's good for entertainment, but can't tell it like it is,
so with pressure building over the upcoming holidays,
take a moment to consider who it is who gets a say,
in the parts of the lives of your friends that you see
because our feed comes from a trough that's looking dirty.