He won't know Adorno   He's an adult with an adcult   You can buy your way into his head      He was never better   Wearing sneakers and a sweater   Made by 12-year-olds sweating in Shenzhen      He says,   Let's drive, drive, drive   Till we burn, burn, burn,   We can choke on it later on tonight   And we'll fumble with the planet   Dry the river and then damn it   Just persuade me that everything's all right.      This was his reality   He says the stupid love equality   And he's never seen a car he didn't like      On code like a reptilian   Pays Rapaille another billion   From your cortex to the page is just a hike.      So   Let's drive, drive, drive   Till we burn, burn, burn,   We can choke on it later tonight   And we'll fumble with the planet   Dry the river, then we'll damn it   Just persuade me that everything's all right.      Because things…we've got to have our things.      We're not persuaded by the Omnicom   We're not persuaded we're the only ones   We're not persuaded by hegemony   We're not persuaded we were ever free      Is that your conscience, or are you alone?   Is that Noam Chomsky on the telephone?