Jesus cut the brake lines when I was driving myself crazy in Optimus Prime

There is trouble brewing in the desert forest farmlands of America
what's the weather doing and something's bad about the economy
and I'm preparing for armageddon here in South Dakotica
building my midlife crisis fueled plastic robot army

I give up on you, world, I give up on your worries
My giving a crap dies here in my South Dakotic thirties
Don't care about money or taxes or massive economic collapses
I'm retreating to my world of toy robots with plastic asses

Once again their fortunes gone in stunning Dow Jones losses
when what they should have invested in all along was toy robotses
Forget those stocks and bonds if you want to make big money
I have never been let down by eBay's nostalgia based economy

Oh Wesley would you write me a song
about Voltron and how we're all gonna die
because I'm growing numb to all that's going wrong
Jesus cut the brake lines on my red robot semi

I don't care about McCain picking running mate Sarah Palin
I care about the ice cream truck Michael Bay picked for Transformers Revenge of the Fallen
I don't care about messages of change from Barack Obama
the only change I care about is from tank to jet to robot

I don't think you want me voting for the presidency
I pick my president based on their roboplasticity
Hey Barack you want my vote, then help me understand
Where do you stand on shipping charges from Hobby Link Japan?

Oh Wesley I wish you would've written a song
about Voltron but we're all gonna die
I've gone numb to all that's gone wrong
Jesus cut the brake lines on my red robot semi

Optimus was my world and in his trailer he hauled my hopes
but like the world he transformed and where did that trailer go?
The world's a runaway robot semi and it's totally out of control
in our lives there's nothing to look forward to except the next exciting episode

I'll do the world a favor just before I go
I can solve all the problems! Tranzor Z told me how
The economy, the war, the herpes, hey just give me a list
There ain't no problem can't be fixed with a flying robot fist

Oh Wesley you can't write me a song
about Voltron because we've all got to die
and I just don't give a fuck about all that's gone wrong
since Jesus cut the brake lines on my red robot semi