Static

We confuse what we say, tripping on our tongues
Caught on a thin line between the shadows and the light.
We are drowning in a warm place, a high we cannot reach, words we cannot preach.

A mixture of color and black and white, life against truth.
The grey area, the words in our minds and mouths and let go.
Inked in words on white walls, distorted blots and acid down your throat.

We are lost in the limbo of what we hide and what we show.
We are the static of a confused connection, scattered pixels and broken sound.
See our outline on the blue screen, we are ready to be overthrown.
Hands reaching for the sky but touching the ground.

We are the catalyst for your breakdown, the chemical fix you need.
The flash of truth behind a liar’s eyes, a rusted lock that has no key.

We are the static of a confused connection, scattered pixels and broken sound.
See our outline on the blue screen, we are ready to be overthrown.
Hands reaching for the sky but touching the ground.

We are the static of your broken explanation.
Watch us wither and die as you drag your feet, a long way from home.

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