[Verse : Starts with a clean, arpeggiated electric guitar, reminiscent of a classic rock ballad. The drums enter with a steady, unhurried beat.] I remember rust on a chain-link fence, And the taste of hose water, made perfect sense. A pocketknife, a half-baked plan, Scraped up knees, the mark of a man. We learned to swim by gettin' thrown in the deep, While the grown-ups smoked and the promises they'd keep Were to patch you up when you took a fall, Not to build a world with no risks at all. [Chorus : The music builds, the guitars become more distorted and the drums more powerful. The vocals are strong and clear.] We're livin' in the age of the padded wall, Where the bubble boy is a guide for us all. We traded scrapes for a sanitized gleam, And we're livin' out the Idiocracy dream. We've locked the doors and we've barred the gates, Cussin' the storms and decryin' the fates. But the only thing we've really put in the ground, Is the common sense that we once had found. [Verse : The music pulls back slightly for the verse, but maintains a driving rhythm. The tone is more satirical.] Now the kids all wear a helmet to play in the sand, And there's a trigger warning on "Peter Pan." Every lawyer's got a lawsuit on speed dial, For a slip on the ice or a misplaced tile. We "curate" our lives and we "manage" our brand, With a selfie stick in a trembling hand. We're so afraid of sayin' somethin' wrong, We just hum along to the same damn song. [Chorus : Full energy again, with more backing vocals for emphasis.] We're livin' in the age of the padded wall, Where the bubble boy is a guide for us all. We traded scrapes for a sanitized gleam, And we're livin' out the Idiocracy dream. We've locked the doors and we've barred the gates, Cussin' the storms and decryin' the fates. But the only thing we've really put in the ground, Is the common sense that we once had found. [Bridge : The music becomes more atmospheric. The bass and a simple, repeating guitar line carry the melody. The vocals are more introspective and raw.] And who's to blame for this comfortable cage? Did we write ourselves onto this sterile page? Is it fear of pain, or fear of the fall? Or the fear of really feelin' nothin' at all? 'Cause a life without a scar, without a tear, Is a life that's paralyzed by its own fear. [Guitar Solo. The solo starts with a constrained, melodic feel, as if fighting against something. It builds in intensity, with bends and sustained notes that convey a sense of breaking free. It should be both defiant and melodic, a release of pent-up frustration and a yearning for something more.] [Chorus : The final chorus explodes with renewed energy after the solo. The vocals are at their most passionate.] We're livin' in the age of the padded wall! Where the bubble boy is a guide for us all! We traded scrapes for a sanitized gleam! And we're livin' out the Idiocracy dream! We've locked the doors and we've barred the gates! Cussin' the storms and decryin' the fates! But the only thing we've really put in the ground! Is the damn good sense that we once had found! [Outro : The music begins to fade, with the main guitar riff repeating. The vocals become more distant, almost a whisper.] Acceptable risk... [A single, echoing guitar note hangs in the air.] What's the risk in never livin' at all? [The final note fades to silence.]
