What You Pay For

Ever, only, never, always;
it's such an abstract disease.
Pacing around in the hallway,
counting your change.
What's that that you've got,
and have you got enough for everyone?
If it's just for you, we're going to take it away.
…replace it with what we're selling in the editorials,
you simply have to have it, and we're going to give it to you.
So tell me you want us to.
Oh do you, do you, do you?

Well is it over? I'm sorry, I nodded out,
but from the cover I already know what it's about.
I'll bet it ends with a twist, whether your mind or your wrist.
They're getting what you pay for.

Ever, only, never, always;
looks better down on your knees.
And as for why, we can always look to the East.