

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Great-granddad wrote in cursive By kerosene and quiet nights Walked two miles for a paycheck Knew every face on his street by sight News came slow in folded paper Wars were rumors Not a feed Love was letters Stained and crumpled Took three weeks to say "I need" [Chorus] Now the whole world's in my pocket And I still feel alone most days Got a thousand little windows Still can't find a single face We traded time for tiny screens We traded skin for shining glass We're the century on fire Burning bright Burning fast [Verse 2] She grew up counting harvests Knew the seasons by the dirt Sunday best and one good picture Saved for weddings Saved for hurt We grow fruit in metal towers Chase degrees and chase the train Talk to strangers in the comment lines Forget the neighbor knows our name [Chorus] Now the whole world's in my pocket And I still feel alone most days Got a thousand little windows Still can't find a single face We traded time for tiny screens We traded skin for shining glass We're the century on fire Burning bright Burning fast [Bridge] Were they better Were we wiser Or just different kinds of scared They had shadows We have sirens Saying "hurry" everywhere (hey!) If they could see us now Would they laugh or would they cry We built towers out of data Still can't learn how to say goodbye [Chorus] Yeah the whole world's in my pocket And I still feel alone most days Got a thousand little windows Still can't find a single face We traded time for tiny screens We traded skin for shining glass We're the century on fire Burning bright Burning fast (so fast) Burning bright Burning fast
Tags
rock, Gritty indie-punk band feel, male vocals. Dry, upfront vocal riding over overdriven guitars and a springy bassline; tight, punchy drums push a brisk tempo. Verses stay lean and talky, choruses burst into shouted gang vocals and octave guitars. Brief middle-eight drops to half-time with roomy snare, then slams back into a final, anthemic hook., indie rock, punk, world
2:53
No
1/29/2026