Fuck off, the internet. I'm tired of circling
Amongst apologists who love ignoring the reality
Of unarmed civilians executed publicly.
They want you to be a ghost
When they rob you of your hope,
But you've got power when they're not expecting anything.
Born as a data mine for targeted marketing,
And no one will listen up until you become a hashtag or a meme
But hate's not a fad that dies with its virality.
They want you to be a ghost
When they rob you of your hope,
But you've got power when they're not expecting anything.
I rush to my phone because I don't wanna feel alone.
They forced us to grow into a world without a soul.
You're frozen with dread as the chatter becomes deafening.
If you're tired of being told to stop complaining about the cold,
Burn those fuckers in their homes.
Burst their bubble and break their bones.
They want you to be a ghost,
But we've got power 'cause they can't stop the things that they refuse to see.