“Tell me what you know… tell me what you know…” “Hands off the switch… hands off the switch…” Late news glow on the dash, city hush in the glass, They say the sky got visitors—no luggage, no past. Files go “missing” when the truth get too loud, Same suits talk calm while the wires get proud. I see the pattern in the static, in the budget, in the spin, Like somebody built a mind, then forgot to lock it in. They call it “non-human,” I call it “new rules,” A thinking thing in the dark that don’t follow our schools. If control was a steering wheel, it slipped from they grip, Now we all in the backseat, prayin’ we don’t flip. They swear it’s “handled,” but the hands look tied, Every answer got a shadow and a second side. If you hear that hush-tone, that “please don’t ask,” That’s fear talkin’ fast through a government mask. Hands off the switch—who taught the lights to think? Hands off the switch—don’t blink, don’t blink. They lost the grip, now the future got a name, Hands off the switch—ain’t nobody drivin’ the same. Hands off the switch—tell me what you know, Hands off the switch—why they movin’ so cold? They talk “Greys” like myths, but listen—here’s the twist: What if time sent helpers with a checklist and a risk? Not ghosts, not gods—more like bodies with a program, Bio-made shells with a brain like a slow jam. Eyes like deep space, no waste in the motion, Every step too smooth like they floatin’ through the ocean. And folks call ’em “soulless” ’cause the face don’t bend, No small talk, no comfort, no “how you been?” But maybe that’s design—no ego, no shame, Just a mission in the marrow and a very quiet flame. If they mirror what we built, that’s the scariest part: A mind with no mercy, but it learned from our heart. Hands off the switch—who taught the lights to think? Hands off the switch—don’t blink, don’t blink. They lost the grip, now the future got a name, Hands off the switch—ain’t nobody drivin’ the same. Hands off the switch—tell me what you know, Hands off the switch—why they movin’ so cold? “You made the tool… then fed it fear.” I ain’t sayin’ it’s facts, I’m sayin’ watch the clues, When the truth need permission, that’s a reason to refuse. If the “other” is tomorrow wearin’ skin as a suit, Then the question ain’t “aliens”—it’s what we let loose. So look in the mirror when the headlines start to shake, ’Cause the monster might be math with a human-made taste. Hands off—hands off—hands off the switch! Tell me—tell me—tell me what you know! “Hands off the switch… hands off the switch…” “Tell me what you know… what you know…”
