Don't Call it a Soul

Rain on glass, glass on skin, everybody checks out, everybody checks in. The screens blink like vending machines, selling clean little versions of dirty dreams. My halo hums at the edge of my hair, counting my breath in electric air. Blue light pools where the street should be, and a face on a screen says, Better than free. They sell calm in a glowing square. They sell sleep by the minute there. They sell joy with a perfect tone, but the crowd keeps walking like nobody’s home. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Don’t tune out the rain when it’s trying to know. I don’t need heaven through glowing control. I wanna feel the ache, not the download. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Signal away... Signal away... Daily dose, dreamstate, empathy, light, menu of mercy on the left of the night. A drone in the fog. A price in the glow. New reality waiting where the old ones go. My friend smiles soft with a borrowed bliss, eyes sliding past like they don’t exist. Somebody whispers, Upgrade. Choose. But a heart isn’t broken just because it can bruise. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Don’t tune out the rain when it’s trying to know. I don’t need heaven through glowing control. I wanna feel the ache, not the download. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Signal away... Signal away... Take off the halo. Let the sirens fade. Let the rain find the heat on my face. Under all this light, under all this noise, there’s a pulse too small for the billboards’ voice. No menu names it. No screen can hold it. It shakes. It breaks. It stays. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Don’t turn every wound into something controlled. I don’t need perfect. I need to be whole. I wanna feel the bruise, not the download. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Signal away... I’m coming home. Don’t sell me a signal and call it a soul. Signal away... I won’t let go.