Wake up... Look down... Swipe... Repeat... Baby's crying in the other room, Daddy's scrolling, he'll be there soon. One more message, one more feed, one more thing he doesn't need. Mama's sitting two feet away, they haven't talked all fucking day. Same old couch, same old home, two little worlds they call their own. Who's in control? Who's using who? Is it the machine — or me and you? HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Eyes on the screen! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Living the dream! Touch! Swipe! Click! Repeat! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Dead on our feet! She says, "Come on, let's take a walk." He says, "Not now" — no time to talk. One more level, one more fight, maybe they'll go out tonight. Dinner's waiting, candles burn, football's on — she waits her turn. He screams louder at the TV than he ever talks to family. Who's in control? Who's using who? Did the machine divide us — or did we want it to? HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Eyes on the screen! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Living the dream! Touch! Swipe! Click! Repeat! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Dead on our feet! We blame the phone. We blame the game. We blame the screen and give it a name. But screens don't choose. And screens don't care. So tell me why we're never there. Was it technology... or us? Another year, another app, another hour falls through the gap. Friends become a profile name, love becomes another game. No one listens, no one sees, everybody's somewhere else but here. A thousand friends behind the glass — but who's beside you when it cracks? How far do we go? How much do we lose? How long before we forget how to choose? HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Eyes on the screen! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Living the dream! Touch! Swipe! Click! Repeat! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Dead on our feet! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! Look at me! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! What do you see? Touch! Swipe! Click! Repeat! HOUSE OF ZOMBIES! WAKE UP! Wake up... Look up... Someone's sitting next to you.
