Sick of the Noise

(Verse 1)

They handed me a uniformBefore I knew my sizeStitched together from assumptionsAnd inherited replies

Family photographs and headlinesSewn along the seamsHalf-remembered conversationsHalf-remembered memories

Every question needed colorsEvery answer picked a sideNobody was selling truthJust neatly folded lies

I wore it long enough to wonderWas it fabric or my skin?Till I caught my own reflectionAnd couldn't tell where I began

(Pre-Chorus)

Now every room's an echo chamberEvery mirror's dressed as glassEverybody building fortressesFrom shadows of the past

And the louder that we shout itThe less we seem to knowWhether we're defending something realOr just afraid to let it go

(Chorus)

Sick of the noiseSick of the scriptsSick of the bloviating idiots

Everybody screaming traitorEverybody keeping scoreBuilding bigger walls of certaintyThen wondering what they're for

Sick of the noiseSick of the warSick of mistaking borrowed answersFor something worth dying for

(Verse 2)

Banners hanging from the rooftopsWeathered by a thousand stormsNobody recalls the reasonDissidence in perfect form

Grandfathers drew the battle linesOn maps they've never seenNow we're tracing fading bordersLike they still mean everything

Scoreboards glowing in the distanceKeeping tally through the nightEvery victory feels hollowEvery loss becomes a right

And the crowd keeps getting louderAs the field keeps disappearingTill we're swinging at reflectionsAnd calling it a reckoning

(Pre-Chorus)

Every tribe becomes a languageEvery language turns to lawEvery law becomes a weaponFor a wound nobody saw

And the louder that we shout itThe less we seem to knowWhether we're defending something realOr just afraid to let it go

(Chorus)

Sick of the noiseSick of the scriptsSick of the bloviating idiots

Everybody screaming traitorEverybody keeping scoreBuilding bigger walls of certaintyThen wondering what they're for

Sick of the noiseSick of the warSick of mistaking borrowed answersFor something worth dying for

((Instrumental))((Polyrhythmic guitars))((Bass ostinato))((Drums fragment and rebuild))((Layered voices))

(Breakdown)

The blue onesThe red onesThe black onesThe white

Every generation paints itselfAnd calls the color right

We watched them build their kingdomsWe watched them draw their linesWe watched them wrap themselves in usAnd call the banners mine

We're only clothWe're only threadWe're only symbols in their heads

We're only clothWe're only threadWe're only lies people spread

We're only clothWe're only threadWe're only lies people spread

(Outro)

The colors fadeThe banners fallThe names dissolveThe walls grow small

And somewhere underneath the fabricBeneath the slogans and the noise

A voice asks quietly:

Who were youBefore the uniform?