I.N.C. - Bed Time Stories

Eight O' clock I turn off the T.V.
Another sick horror flick to haunt me
A prime time victim, I'm just eight years old
Glued to the set at my brain turns to mold

What distorted messages are they sending?
Cause her nightmares seen never ending
She sits and rots everynight

How long will these visions rip her?
Will she throw her parents into a wood chipper
She sits and rots everynight.

Helpless minds, controlled emotions,
another kind of brain corrosion.
Technological takes it all
Biological takes control
Loses sleep, dreams of hell.
Another night. Dead brain cells
Life to her seems so gory, come to mommy
It's Bedtime Story.

Nine O' Clock I'm forced to go to bed
Got to fight the sandman or i'll be dead
Mom and Dad should have
Listened to my plee
Cause they don't have a clue
Of what my eyes see