[musikstil Tom McDonald]
[Intro]
They don’t need bullets,
they broadcast fear.
They tune your soul
to the signal they steer.
[Verse 1]
Every headline’s static, every truth’s offbeat,
they remix your thoughts in a dopamine sheet.
Your mind’s a frequency — they know the tone,
they hum your pain through a megaphone.
They weaponize rhythm, monetize tears,
broadcast trauma in surround-sound fears.
You call it news, they call it control,
low vibration in your radio soul.
[Hook]
Welcome to the frequency warfare,
where silence is rare and truth’s in despair.
You dance to the beat that programs your brain,
the melody sweet — but the lyrics are chains.
Welcome to the frequency warfare,
your heart’s the drum, your thoughts the snare.
They hum your dreams in a coded prayer,
can you still hear your soul in there?
[Verse 2]
They hijack your mood with a subtle hum,
frequencies drip where the mind goes numb.
From Wi-Fi sighs to blue-light spells,
every wave’s a story your body tells.
You feel anxiety? That’s not just you,
it’s the sound of the system breaking through.
They fine-tune fear to a certain pitch,
you call it stress — it’s a hidden glitch.
[Bridge]
Turn off the noise, tune into your core,
your DNA’s music, not a war score.
The truth’s not loud — it vibrates still,
the quiet within bends the will.
[Hook – Final]
Welcome to the frequency warfare,
where silence is gold and lies fill the air.
They hum your pain in digital prayer,
but love’s the wave they can’t repair.
[Outro]
The weapon is sound.
The target — your mind.
But the soul…
is the only signal they’ll never find.
BlackFoxUniverse
