Memory Machine

Red wire: right temple
 Black wire: left temple
 Red wire: right temple
 Black wire: left temple
 ♪
 There are times I think eternal life ain't such a bad gig
 Smoke all you want and see the planets
 If and only if they find a way to cure the longing
 The distant panic
 Someday, I'm telling you
 They'll make a memory machine
 To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
 To wash away the grief
 Someday, I'm telling you
 They'll make a memory machine
 To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
 To wash away the grief
 There are folks that think to have a soul, you've got to suffer
 Well, lately I've had my RDA of that
 And call it fascist, but I know that someday happy
 Will be all that matters
 Someday, I'm telling you
 They'll make a memory machine
 To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
 To wash away the grief
 Someday, I'm telling you
 They'll make a memory machine
 To wax our hearts to a blinding sheen
 To wash away the grief
 Poetry, Aldous Huxley—yeah, yeah, yeah, it'll be a relief
 If they can make machines to save us labor
 Someday they'll do our hearts the very same favor
 The wails of ruined lives brought to a halt
 By the serene hum of computers in air-conditioned vaults
 Red wire: right temple
 Black wire: left temple
 Red wire: right temple
 Black wire: left temple