Breaking banners, flashing red, new fear, new scare, they scream "You're next." Alarm emojis, siren sound, you dress up panic, sell it by the pound. Thumbnails with your frozen scream, red circles, arrows, "end of dreams". You don’t love truth, you love the spike – another hit to feed the hype. Every headline turned to bait, every tremor pushed as fate. You don’t ask who has to hold it, you just count who took the click and how much fear your feed can fit. You farm dread like daylight savings, store it in our shaking bones. We already live on nerves and coffee – you keep clawing at our phones. You sell fear to the overworked and hurt. Life is already heavy - we're the ones it hits. You sell fear just for clicks and views. You cash in on the panic, we carry all the hits. Mothers scrolling on the nightshift, kids asleep in second-hand beds. We already choke on bills and hours, you pour ghosts into our heads. Old men watching from their sofas, hands still shaking from the war. You repaint their old nightmares just to squeeze a little more. Workers on the morning train, eyes like ash, backs like rope. You feed them end-of-everything on top of rent and shredded hope. We don’t need your boiling headlines, we’ve got fires of our own. You keep screaming “end is coming” – we just need to make it home. You sell fear to the overworked and hurt. Life is already heavy - we're the ones it hits. You sell fear just for clicks and views. You cash in on the panic, we carry all the hits. We live in constant siren weather, you add thunder for effect. Every rumour gets a trailer, every shadow gets a threat. You talk of "waking up the people" while you drain what’s left of sleep. We were never numb or lazy – just too tired, just too tired from running deep. Turn off the red light. Kill the feed. We don't need your nightmares, we have all we need. Turn off the red light. End the show. We already live in pressure - you don't have to make it grow. You sell fear to the overworked and bruised. Life is already heavy - we're the ones you use. You sell fear, just for clicks and views. You cash in on the panic, we cash in the bruise.
