during the later Triumphs the office workers on the canyon walls poised their fingers over the empty buttons ready to dump the contents of their recycle bins these gestures showered the cavalcades in streams of semi-randomized electromagnetic broadcasts, all of which would register to the electronic Jack Bauer lurking in the shades below in many misions afoot as strange commands next thing he leaps up on a limo hood with a microtech halo grating he jumps in rips out the throats of six foreign dignitaries only he knows are aliens about to detonate themselves yeah the crowd the night the streaming wild tickertape yeah you shoulda heard it just around midnight seems Osama was reborn as a chauffeur got a self-destruct in his ear was just about to say 'what' blow the free world to oysters yet again we give thanks reel out our low frequencies oooooh we cry oooooh you shoulda heard it just around midnight
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