Verse 1 We know it’s burning, still we grin, we’re in on the joke, it’s fine, it’s in. Irony’s our new disguise, we choke and call it wise. Chorus We’re laughing at the fire, our guilt’s a kind of choir. We dance in ash and wire, laughing at the fire. Verse 2 Truth’s too heavy, so we jest, we wear our pain like Sunday best. No gods, no guilt, no plan — just tired, clever hands. Bridge We scroll, we share, we sneer, pretend we disappear. But silence hums beneath, it’s more than we can bear. Outro We’re laughing at the fire, as if it makes us free. But maybe we’re just tired — of what we used to be.
