Marching masses hell bound
Stepping off a digital precipice
Transfixed, worshiping, glass gods
Information slave trade
Every day offering secrets
Backstage bought and sold
Broadcast noise generation
Clouded we can’t hear the wind blow
Encumbered and stilled
While the sirens continue their song
Bombarded by their keeper’s lies until there’s nothing to believe in
Throw me overboard, and hope I sink
No one hears a sound, as my signal fadеs
A thousand voices beckoning
A thousand more pulling oppositе
I can’t hear myself anymore
Swept up inside a Barron’s noise
You willingly give us everything we desire
You’ve lost your will to fight
Our harpies scream a terrible dissonant chorus
And you nod your heads in time
Throw me overboard, and hope I sink
No one hears a sound, as my signal fades away
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