Cannon Fodder

[Intro]
[low rumble, distant alarms]
Marching boots on broken ground
Masks on
Heads down
Static in the background (yeah)
[Verse 1]
Barcode on my dog tags
Paycheck for a body bag
Signed up for a way out
Got drafted to a blood tax
Cheap gear, cheap grace
Dust caked on my face
They aim past my name tag
Only headline is the grave
They feed us fear in rations
Scroll wars, closed captions
Push this button, pull that trigger
You just numbers in their captions
I see targets on the children
I see profits in the killing (uh)
They call it “keeping order”
I call it what it is:
Cannon fodder
[Chorus]
I’m just cannon fodder
Lined up, locked in the sight
They say “run it harder”
While they sleep through the night
If I burn, if I fall
Will they even remember at all?
I’m just cannon fodder
Till I turn and aim at the wall (hey!)
[Verse 2]
Second voice
I was born in the crossfire
School desk, live drills, raw wires
Learned math, learned maps, learned
How to hide when the room turns quiet
They sell fear like fast food
Countdowns on the classroom
Whole world in a flashbang
Brown sky, black rain, red news
Got friends in a foreign sand
Came back with a shaking hand
Heard “thank you for your service”
Then they cut off all his plans
They raise flags for the cameras
Toast death in their mansions (yeah)
But the names on the stone line
Ain’t theirs, it’s the abandoned
[Chorus]
I’m just cannon fodder
Lined up, locked in the sight
They say “run it harder”
While they sleep through the night
If I burn, if I fall
Will they even remember at all?
I’m just cannon fodder
Till I turn and aim at the wall (aim at the—)
[Bridge]
(first voice)
What if we all dropped weapons at once?
(second voice)
What if we all stopped marching to drums?
(together)
What if the sky went quiet for real
No planes, no bombs, just time to heal?
[first voice]
They can’t fire us if we walk
Second voice
They can’t buy us if we talk
Together
We ain’t numbers, we got names
We ain’t pieces in their game (nah)
[Chorus]
We were cannon fodder
Now we’re breaking out of the line
If they want their order
They can pay with their own lives
If we burn, if we fall
They gon’ feel every crack in the wall
We were cannon fodder
Now we’re coming back for it all (for it all)
[Outro]
[beat stutters, bass alone]
Dog tags on the table
Boots left by the door
They won’t write our stories
So we carve them in the floor

rap, Hybrid rap-metal banger: distorted bass and detuned synth drone, double-kick drums under trap hats, crunchy nu-metal guitars on the hook. Two aggressive male rappers trading bars and call‑and‑response chants; verse one tighter and technical, verse two raw and ragged. Big gang-vocal chorus with shouted harmonies and filtered scream layers; occasional ambient risers and glitchy reverses between sections, ending on a sudden, clipped stop., hard rock, techno, hip hop, nu metal, metal, rock, ambient