[Verse I – Spoken / low whispered tone]
I saw a man bleed oil from his veins...
and a child trade her breath for a screen.
The sky was choking on its own reflection,
while we kissed the flag and fell asleep.
They told us silence was patriotic—
so we buried our voices with the truth.
Now the soil’s too sour to grow anything but lies.
And the only thing left to bloom…
is decay.
[Bridge – soft, eerie melodic vocals]
They paved Eden for a parking lot of profit.
Sold the rain to the highest bidder.
Bottled up grief and called it "freedom."
Left us to drown in the drought.
[Chorus – screamed/growled, heavy riff drop]
No gods.
No kings.
Just merchants of entropy
wearing halos made of war.
We danced on the graves of progress
with broken compasses,
and burned every map
that pointed home.
[Verse II – spoken/melodic, building tension]
The cities hum like dying stars.
Neon prophets preach to empty pews.
And every window reflects a mask—
not a face, not a soul,
just a screen,
just a scream...
[Breakdown – brutal, distorted growls]
This is the bouquet at the funeral of hope.
Each petal a policy,
each thorn a vote.
They watered it with apathy,
and still called it growth.
[Chorus – screamed/growled, double time, more frantic]
No gods.
No kings.
Just merchants of entropy
wearing halos made of war.
We danced on the graves of progress
with broken compasses,
and burned every map
that pointed home.
[Outro – whispered, fading into ambient static]
I left a flower on the altar of the future.
It wilted before the sun could rise.
Maybe next time…
we’ll notice the fire
before we breathe it in.
FeedTheLies
