Brazil

(Verse 1) Clockwork grind, the gears don’t sleep, Paper trails in the dark, running way too deep. Machines cough smoke, and the air feels thin, They promised us progress, but we’re locked within. Punch the clock, time ticks like a bomb, Wires tangle lives, where did we go wrong? Gray skies loom, shadows on repeat, The future’s here, but it’s incomplete. (Chorus) Living in the system, caught in the scheme, Smokestack dreams in a broken machine. Laugh through the cracks, though the joke’s on me, Trapped in the rhythm of dystopian beats. (Verse 2) Pipes scream static, leaking bitter truths, Paranoia hums in the corporate booths. They sell us escapes through a faulty screen, But the signal breaks—what does freedom mean? Concrete jungle, no place to hide, Barcodes etched where souls collide. Weighed down heavy by the scraps we take, But even in ruin, the spirit won’t break. (Chorus) Living in the system, caught in the scheme, Smokestack dreams in a broken machine. Laugh through the cracks, though the joke’s on me, Trapped in the rhythm of dystopian beats. (Bridge - spoken word) Operator error: humanity misplaced. File a form for your soul, hope it’s not erased. Iron hands grip tight, bureaucracy grins, But behind every cog, rebellion begins. (Verse 3) The suits in towers toast to decay, Watching our lives as their shadow play. Faceless bosses, they don’t hear our cries, Just numbers in a ledger under endless skies. Rust in the wires, but hope sparks in code, A rebel’s anthem in the overload. We don’t need their blueprints, their grand design, We’ll build our own future, step out of the line. (Chorus) Living in the system, caught in the scheme, Smokestack dreams in a broken machine. Laugh through the cracks, though the joke’s on me, Trapped in the rhythm of dystopian beats. (Outro) Steel drum echoes, footsteps fade, In the alleys of hope, where the rebels play. Smokestack dreams, still chasing the sun, In a world undone, we’re the glitch that runs.