Trigger for Happiness
That we've lost ourselves
In our slot machines, shotguns, and strip malls
Baby your technology
So slick and functional
And me without my nuclear arsenal
And if I could kill without guilt or sin
There'd soon be a few less record executives
And if I could kill and receive forgiveness
There'd sure as hell be one less president
There's got to be a pill for forgiveness
There's got to be a trigger for happiness
Automatic sensory remote control
Weather satellites manipulate your soul
Efficiently without a modicum of grace
I want to go out with a smile on my face
Writer/s: Machines of Loving Grace