They feed you stories, sugar-coated rust A thousand smiling faces built from dust Every headline points the same way Every truth cut down to size You dance to music you didn’t choose Your hands move, but they’re not yours to use The crowd sways, thinking they’re free But the chains are dressed in silk A billboard tells you what to love A flag tells you who to hate And the air tastes like static When the broadcast never sleeps I watch the city glow with false suns I watch names turned into weapons And I wonder if silence Is the only thing left that’s real
