CHORUS:

Oh Mr. Abrams, will you please

Stop torturing my memories?

Say hey hey, J.J., I'm on my knees

Stop shitting on my fantasies

Your films are racing

With hyperactive pacing

We barely see a face and then you

Cut to space, it's bizarre like a dream

Well I remember fiction

With meaning and conviction

Articulate depiction which is

Missing from your repertoire, so it seems

So while we're fuming

Go on and keep exhuming

The bodies of work upon whose shoulders

You made your means

(Just add A.D.D.)

(Chorus)

(Instrumental)

(Chorus)

What is that fantastic glare?

Are there fireflies in the air?

Is it a stroke or some immortal's quickening?

A helicopter flying low?

A ghostly glow or UFO?

All I know is I can't see a goddamn thing!

(Instrumental)

So forget the lighting

The incoherent writing…

It's like you're trying to hide behind

Exciting BANG! BOOM!

Like you're Michael Bay

Don't wanna be a complainer

But give me an explainer;

Your story's like a strainer

Leaking everywhere through the holes anyway

So while we're screaming

Be sure the film is teeming

With logos and brands so we

Know how much you're getting paid

(Can you see it in the back row? YES SIR!)

(Chorus x3)