We donβt rot, weβre taught to wait, Breathing fear they call it fate. Say itβs peace, say itβs control, But I still feel my beating soul. Hands up high, eyes down low, This isnβt living, this is slow. They call it safetyβ¦ drip it slow. βTil the tongue forgets air and the taste of truth. If we donβt question, we only survive. If we donβt swallow, we stay alive. Zombies walkingβ¦ no graves in sight. Fed headlines like holy wine, βtil panic feeds pure obedience. Still alive, still in line, Still swallowing borrowed time. No grave dug, no blood shown, Just a nation learning how to moan. Say my name, say Iβm free, Say it enough, I might believe. We donβt rot, weβre taught to wait, Breathing fear they call it fate. Say itβs peace, say itβs control, But I still feel my beating soul. Hands up high, eyes down low, This isnβt living, this is slow. They sell the cure in borrowed breath, Stamp the lie with approved ink. Teach us fear is common sense And thinkingβs how the weak ones sink. Screens glow blue like altar flames, Hands up, palms open, empty eyes. Truth gets flagged, erased, reframed, While silence learns to wear a smile. Sleepwalk prayers through wired veins, Pulse synced up to scripted dread. Not dead enough to call it death, Just trained to kneel, not trained to live. We donβt rot, weβre taught to wait, Breathing fear they call it fate. Say itβs peace, say itβs control, But I still feel my beating soul. Hands up high, eyes down low, This isnβt living, this is slow. Still alive, still in line, Still swallowing borrowed time. No grave dug, no blood shown, Just a nation learning how to moan. Say my name, say Iβm free, Say it enough, I might believe.
