I live on the highway near the Puppet Motel.
I log in every day. I know the neighborhood well.
Now about the residents of the Puppet Motel
Theyre more than a little spooky
And most of them are mean. Theyre runnin the numbers
Theyre playin cops and robbers
Down in their dungeons inside their machines.
Cause they dont know whats really real now
Theyre havin fourth dimensional dreams
Their minds are out on bail now
And real is only what it seems.
And all the puppets in this digital jail
Theyre runnin around in a frenzy in search of the Holy Grail.
Theyre havin virtual sex. Theyre eatin virtual food.
No wonder these puppets are always in a lousy mood.
So if you think we live in a modern world
Where everything is clean and swell
Take a walk on the B side of town down by the Puppet Motel.
Take a whiff. Burning plastic.
I drink a cup of coffee I try to revive
My minds a blank Im barely alive
My nerves are shot I feel like hell
Guess its time to check in at the Puppet Motel.
Boot up. Good afternoon. Pause.
Oooo. I really like the way you talk.
Pardon me. Shut down