Mel Gibson

M.O.R.T. · Other Songs - M.O.R.T.

Skola, posao,
penzija pa smrt
ne dam nista susjedu
jer i on je skrt

Placa, kredit,
auto i kuca
bolesna kicma
i karcinom pluca

Struja, telefon,
voda i plin
narkoman kcer
i drolja sin

Zato kauc, televizija
savrsena vizija
trajna anestezija
digitalna magija

Evo ti show
umro da ne bi
plesi sa zvijezdama
mozak odjebi

Budi carobnjak
budi princeza
budi Mel Gibson
al s drugog planeta

Ref. 2x
Kauc, televizija
savrsena vizija
trajna anestezija
digitalna magija

Kauc, televizija
savrsena vizija
slatka lobotomija
digitalna magija

Mel Gibson

The wish-list of a conventional life—school, job, pension, house, loan—ends in a body worn down by work and a family imagined in grotesque disrepair. M.O.R.T. then cuts to the couch, television and endless entertainment, where political and celebrity spectacle offer a “perfect vision” of sedation. The title invokes the fantasy of becoming a larger-than-life screen figure, but the lyric’s real target is the ordinary person trained to watch rather than act.

Its reference to Dancing with the Stars sharpens the joke: even the idea of celebrity transformation becomes another invitation to switch off the mind. The song’s bleak comedy comes from setting domestic hardship beside glossy entertainment, not from pretending that a single viewer can simply opt out. The text does not identify a specific television episode or political event, and no independent review of this track was verified. The critique is broader and more durable: when every frustration is answered with another screen, passivity begins to look like a lifestyle. M.O.R.T. turns that diagnosis into a refrain with the blunt force of a channel being changed mid-sentence.

The song’s satire uses the familiar rock-and-roll suspicion of mass entertainment, but directs it at the anesthetic routine of watching rather than at television as a medium in itself. The fantasy of becoming a Hollywood star is set against debt, illness and family trouble, making celebrity appear as another screen people use to avoid their circumstances. Its attack on passive spectatorship has an almost punk sensibility: stop consuming the spectacle and recover the capacity to think. The lyric names no program beyond its television reference, so its point is broader than one show. The couch is both refuge and trap, and the song refuses to let it be only one.