[Drift 1] Stepping over cracks on the sidewalk, watching the billboards show me Another politician smiling over streets I paid for He's sellin' me cures that make me sicker, bitchin' about National Debt Then telling me how kids in Africa are a national threat Next to him, Four hundred dollar tickets to a music show Just to watch somebody lip-sync, proudly flashing dark symbols Of ancient, devilish threats, Yeah, I don't think I will go Selling sex, selling fear, selling air, selling cars As long as the numbers look the same on my credit cards This ain’t living, this is prison without cells [Pre-Hookline] I keep scrolling, keep paying, keep nodding my head But something inside me is kept half-dead INTENTIONALLY [Hookline] Where did all the real things go? I’m still out here looking for them I need something that don’t have a barcode Something that feels like days I've never known [Drift 2] Rich men in white coats pushing pills like candy bars Kickbacks from short skirts to fill their cookie jars Corporations own the water, own the air, own the stars and such Ration it to you while building data centers using ten times as much Hollywood stars preaching freedom while chaining me to their dreams While every song on the radio sounds like it was made by a machine This ain’t living, this is prison without cells [Pre-Hookline] I keep scrolling, keep paying, keep nodding my head But something inside me is kept half-dead INTENTIONALLY [Hookline] Where did all the real things go? I’m still out here looking for them I need something that don’t have a barcode Something that feels like days I've never known [Drift 3] Big government smiling while they tighten the noose Telling lies as we let their corruption run loose Big tech watching every move I make Sellin' that information to Uncle Sam On the sly, for controls sake They tell me what to think, what to buy, what to feel While our voices get buried under corporate steel This ain’t living, this is prison without cells [Signal] Turn the pressure up until we shake the floor Let them know we don't want this shit anymore We don’t want your perfect speech, don’t want your perfect lie We want our wings, we want to be free and allowed to fly This ain’t living, this is prison without cells [Pre-Hookline] I keep scrolling, keep paying, keep nodding my head But something inside me is kept half-dead INTENTIONALLY [Hookline - bigger] Where did all the real things go? I’m still out here looking for them I need something that don’t have a barcode Something that feels like days I've never known [Final Drift / Outro] So I keep walking these roads, with their weight on my back Hoping for empty stadiums with no sound checks I would rather walk in silence than listen to that If the real thing is still breathing, and is somewhere still alive I’ll keep searching for that… til the day I die.
