In a world where a model's bursting bodice commands the same breaking-news urgency as the death of a pioneering athlete, one truly must admire our collective priorities. Whilst Brooks Nader's dress struggled to contain the excitement at a Baywatch reboot nobody requested, the Secret Service pleaded for a billion dollars to protect the very people arguing over whether Kash Patel enjoys a tipple too many. It's all terribly dignified: self-driving cars drowning in Texas floods, the First Lady being scolded for offering a pleasant Mother's Day wish, and a smuggler managing to be even more ghastly than his profession suggests. One rather thinks the apocalypse might arrive not with a bang, but with a wardrobe malfunction on a red carpet somewhere.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Verse 1]
The ticker tape is scrolling past
A pioneer has breathed his last
Jason broke the wall down, yeah
Forty-seven years, he passed
A landmark gone, the tributes flow
But there's barely time to let it go
'Cause someone's zipper nearly failed
Four minutes 'fore the Baywatch trail
[Pre-Chorus]
The news desk weighs the human cost
A legacy against a bust
They calculate the column inches
And decide whose story clinches
[Chorus]
Headlines and deadlines
Tragedy wasted on the blind
A civil rights icon, a busted seam
Both drowning in the same downstream
We're scrolling through the carnage, babe
Past smugglers and the evil trade
But tell me, do you lose more sleep
Over a swimsuit spread, or secrets kept?
[Verse 2]
Melissa sent a Mother's Day card
Critics parsed it, found it hard
To find a message pure enough
From someone they've decided's rough
The oversight committee screams
Accusations, broken dreams
Denying drinks with righteous fury
Like closing time in a hurry
[Bridge]
The Secret Service needs a billion
To keep the v.I.P.s from villains
They've tapped a man from I.C.E. to lead
And keep the profile low indeed
And Waymo's robots hit the brakes
The machines have made another mistake
They haven't worked out water's wet
Artificial fools, we haven't met yet
[Chorus]
Headlines and deadlines
Tragedy wasted on the blind
A civil rights icon, a busted seam
Both drowning in the same downstream
We're scrolling through the carnage, babe
Past smugglers and the evil trade
But tell me, do you lose more sleep
Over a swimsuit spread, or secrets kept?
[Outro]
Natural stupidity remains
While artificial intelligence drains
But who are we to judge the screen?
We're equally obscene
Yeah, we're equally obscene