So sick, so sick of the digital age
The clock is looming, and in rage
I wrap my arms around the hands
And **** with all my inner man

I want to pull it back, pull back
But the tower won't even crack
So we gaze at old creation
Us artists of an artless nation

Look back on the past and cry
Meanwhile the music left to die
Those of us who still remember
All the real-ness gone forever

Cellophane on new CDs
Music  videos on MTV
Friends that actually called
Before Twitter stripped our gall,
Global markets stole our soul,
And Miley called herself rock ‘n roll

I'm going back to 1990. Goodbye.
Thanks for the memories
Love, Generation Y