I read the morning paper like a man who has no plan,
scanning for the horror and the tragedy and the ban,
and every headline is a setup for a bit I cannot use,
and every column is a punchline wrapped inside the news.
The morning paper used to come on dead wood to the door,
now it arrives on a device and it hurts even more,
because the quantity of awful is endless in scroll,
and the comedy of reading it has taken quite a toll.
The sports section is funnier than anything in print,
grown professionals discussing what a ball could hint,
at regarding some philosophical intention or desire,
while the world outside the stadium is basically on fire.
I clip the funniest headlines like a man preserving art,
a catalog of editorial dignity in part,
and some days the whole front page is just a perfect bit,
and I laugh at the morning paper and I have to admit.
[Chorus]
The morning paper, full of all the things that went to hell,
the morning paper, full of things the headline cannot tell,
and somehow reading every single devastating thing,
makes the morning paper the funniest bit I can bring.